


Snapshots

by EmeraldWaters



Series: Seasons [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-01-08 02:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 35,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaters/pseuds/EmeraldWaters
Summary: Baekhyun gives Chanyeol an appreciative once-over, hums, and says, “Nice to meet you… Yoda.”Kyungsoo hisses, “Baekhyun,” and kicks his toes into Baekhyun’s shin, which actually really fucking hurts.“It’s all good,” Chanyeol reassures, grinning, “I think he was just overwhelmed at how big I was.”Kyungsoo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t deal with this. This is the exact reason why I never wanted you two to meet.”ORGlimpses into the lives of Byun Baekhyun and Park Chanyeol





	1. A Not So Good Impression

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Hi! 
> 
> Welcome to Snapshots, the third and last part of Seasons. I debated writing this fic because I wanted to move onto other pieces, but this wouldn’t leave me alone, and here I am.
> 
> If you’ve read my other pieces, this starts before Autumn Eyes and Cat and Mouse, and will finish after both of them. Pertaining to the name - although the first half is roughly a storyline - there are time-jumps, and some chapters will just be glimpses into their daily lives. I also wanted to show some things that happened in the other pieces that there wasn’t time or space to do so. At the moment, neither Sehun or Kai will be in this fic. Unfortunately it's just worked out that way.
> 
> I am open to suggestions, but no promises, and I definitely won’t write a wedding haha.
> 
> The first few chapters will include Kyungsoo's point of view, just because I decided to start with his and Chanyeol's meeting. Eventually it will end up just being Baekhyun and Chanyeol.
> 
> Enjoy, and please comment x

 

 

Kyungsoo is woken by a crash.

Sluggish, he pulls the cover down from over his head, turning to glare at the light that’s now shining into the room. It’s Saturday, his _one_ sleep-in day as his classes require six o’clock starts, if not earlier. With a dry mouth and crusty, blurry eyes, he squints angrily at the disruption.

A tall boy is standing in the doorway, with a guitar case and two other suitcases. “Hi!”

Kyungsoo ignores him, rolling back over and going to sleep.

 

* * *

 

It's two days before he properly sees his roommate again. He bursts into the room with a towel around his shoulders just as Kyungsoo has finished getting dressed.

"Hi! We haven't really seen each other yet but I'm Chanyeol!" His roommate greets, grinning, water droplets splattering against Kyungsoo's face.

"Kyungsoo," he replies shortly.

"I'm studying music, what about you?"

Ignoring the outstretched hand and the question, he pushes past Chanyeol as he leaves for his class.

He feels only a brief flash of guilt; he's here for study not to make friends, and it's Chanyeol's fault he was late for the first lesson of the semester. Chanyeol's fault that he missed the first set of notes and spent the entire lesson playing catch up. Which he hates, especially with how messy it makes his hand-writing.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the second semester, Kyungsoo is at his desk, headphones in, trying to do his assessment while Chanyeol dresses as quietly as he can. (Which, is not very).

Kyungsoo grimaces at the annoying rustle of clothes, at the muttered curse when Chanyeol bangs his shin against his bedside stand. Like a puppy with too big paws, Chanyeol often forgets how big he is, excitement awkwardly tumbling out over his legs. More often than not he ends up sprawled across the floor.

In the three weeks they’ve been rooming together, Chanyeol’s attempts to talk to him have dwindled into near nothing. Instead, the man’s smile dims when he enters the room, as he respectfully quietens into a level Kyungsoo’s comfortable with.

Kyungsoo tells himself that it’s not his fault, that he doesn’t feel guilty when Chanyeol goes to open his mouth, only to shut it again. _He doesn’t._ Chanyeol’s just someone that thrives on positivity and conversation, which is not something Kyungsoo’s presence can provide, that’s all. He doesn’t do excitable.

Forcing himself to focus back on the research before him, Kyungsoo’s fingers are poised over the keys when he’s startled by a shriek. “What?”  he snaps.

He turns to see Chanyeol cowering in the corner, as far away from the door as he can. He whimpers. “Bugs. A swarm. So thick I couldn’t see through.”

“Not again,” Kyungsoo mutters, annoyed, his screen flashing new with a ‘no internet’ symbol. _Bloody freshmen leaving food in the vents._

“This has happened before!?” Chanyeol asks, voice rising sharply in pitch.

Kyungsoo shushes him with a finger, as the intercom crackles.

_“Good morning students. Unfortunately, as some of you will already know, there has been an insect infestation in the East and Wing corridors of the dorms. We are asking all students in those wings to please stay put for now and hopefully this should be sorted in a few hours. We will announce when it is safe to leave your rooms. All classes are cancelled for today, due to the damage to the classrooms and the internet cables. Thank you.”_

Internally Kyungsoo groans. The day is now useless.

Chanyeol shudders.

 

 

 

 

By the end of the first hour, Kyungsoo has edited his essay as much as he can without the information he needs, worked in pompous sentence-starters and fancy paragraph structures that he will delete as soon as he goes back to it. Long-winded is not his style. He pulls his glasses off to scrub at his sore eyes. _Surely_ they’ll deal with the infestation soon. 

By the end of the second hour, Kyungsoo gives up on watching Prince of Tennis after the third time his eyes tear up. His back is sore from his cheap desk-chair, and when he stretches it, it cracks like he’s fifty instead of twenty-one. He pulls his headphones out, massages his ears, and puts them in again, sighing.

By the third hour, Kyungsoo’s hungry. In the silence, his stomach rumbles embarrassingly loud, and Kyungsoo presses his hand to it. He pauses his music, frozen, ears turning red when he hears a rustle. A minute later, Chanyeol’s at his desk, tall and awkward, holding out three rice cakes. Wide-eyed in surprise, Kyungsoo takes the offering with a quiet “thank you.” Tentative, Chanyeol smiles at him and returns to his bed. The rice-cakes are stale, but they fill his stomach and Kyungsoo’s guilt grows. How badly has he treated Chanyeol, brushing his attempt at friendship off at every turn, and still Chanyeol shares his food and smiles. Kyungsoo knows he can be intimidating, can be downright unapproachable, and the guilt winds further up into his chest.

It’s not until the fourth hour, that Kyungsoo finds the nerve to turn in his chair. Chanyeol freezes with a pencil between his teeth when he looks up to see Kyungsoo watching him. Awkwardly, Kyungsoo takes out his headphones and crosses the room to sit on his bed, mimicking Chanyeol with his back against the headboard.

“I’m studying to become a chef. It’s my second year,” he says in the end, after five minutes of silence and searching for the right words.

In the following quiet, Kyungsoo wants to bury himself under the covers and never speak again. Conversation is not something that comes easily to him, neither is opening up, and its no wonder Baekhyun is his only friend – he refused to leave Kyungsoo alone until he talked to him.

But Chanyeol grins at him, wide and happy and all at once, which for some reason makes Kyungsoo relax.

In the next hour, between Chanyeol scribbling down what must be song lyrics, Kyungsoo learns that Chanyeol is a first-year music student, has a shift twice a week at a music store called ‘Trainee,’ and was born in Seoul. That Chanyeol is older than him by a year, which surprises them both, though Chanyeol doesn’t ask to be called hyung (which Kyungsoo would find uncomfortable). Chanyeol is polite, bubbly, and is all too happy to direct the conversation.

When the pauses between Kyungsoo’s answers get further and further in between, book clutched white-fisted in his hands, Chanyeol smiles at him and turns back to his lyrics. He doesn’t press.

Kyungsoo wants to apologize, to tell Chanyeol it isn’t his fault. That words still get caught in his throat, roped down, and he’s too afraid to voice them, unsure what to do with them, resulting in an occasional stutter, or worse, a voice crack. An anxiety that ensures he keeps his lips together, not wanting the half-words to escape from his mouth. It’s why Kyungsoo likes to watch, observe, be the person on the side-lines. But he doesn’t, that’s too complicated, he hasn’t voiced these thoughts to anyone – not even Baekhyun, who must know – let alone a person he’s known for three weeks, so he just turns back to his book.

The silence is broken seconds, minutes, hours later, Kyungsoo couldn’t tell - because he’s so immersed in his book - by Chanyeol announcing that he needs the bathroom. “Should I wait? Can I hold it in?”

Kyungsoo keeps quiet throughout Chanyeol’s monologue, only voicing that no, he shouldn’t try piss out the window.

“Should I run down the hallway?”

“Only if you want to be eaten alive,” Kyungsoo says dryly, carelessly, then freezes. Because that was too casual, too much like something he’d say to Baekhyun who he’s known for years. And who is not scared of bugs.

Chanyeol only laughs though, and sits back down.

Ten minutes later, when the announcement comes that they are allowed to leave, Kyungsoo beats Chanyeol out of the room, to escape the stuffiness of awkward-draining conversation, to study and to escape the easy smile of a now not-so-stranger. He spends the hours until dark at the library.

Kyungsoo pretends to be asleep when Chanyeol returns to the room and sees the new packet of rice cakes on his bed.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The first few weeks of rooming with Kyungsoo had been hard. Chanyeol had always been too sensitive and sociable, and “ _darling you can’t be friends with everyone,”_ had become a common household-phrase for his mum to say softly when Chanyeol would come home crying.

Although Kyungsoo hasn’t spoken more than three sentences to Chanyeol since the bug infestation, it doesn’t feel like he’s being pushed away anymore. Because the silence is gentler than before and Chanyeol has watched Kyungsoo from under the protection of his headphones and music sheets. It’s not hard to see now that he’s shy, hides his nervousness behind a blank exterior.

And when Chanyeol cautiously asks why Kyungsoo’s glaring at him one day, the younger man’s answer causes him to burst into laughter. _His eyes are bad. He doesn’t like to wear contacts._ Kyungsoo’s not glaring, he’s just trying to see. That’s all it was all along. Kyungsoo tells him to shut up when Chanyeol’s laughter reaches the two-minute mark, but his ears are red. It only endears the smaller boy to him more.

(With glasses on, Kyungsoo doesn’t glare as much).

But despite these new observations, he’s still intimidating – even being a head short than Chanyeol, even with his narrow frame and heart-shaped lips – because he’s still got a short fuse, and the effect of his large eyes staring at you silently is the _worst._ So, when Kyungsoo sighs and closes his book, Chanyeol’s fingers freeze on the strings, apologies already on his tongue, _he was playing quietly and all the practice rooms were booked._

“If you’re going to play that, at least let me pick the song,” is what he says.

Chanyeol licks his lips nervously, taken by surprise but not wanting to jinx his luck. “Sure, what do you want me to play?”

“Billionaire by Travis Mccoy?”

He sighs in relief, that he can do.

When he starts singing, he’s surprised when Kyungsoo joins in, but he doesn’t stop. He will deny it was mainly out of fear. The younger man’s voice is nice, strong and sweet, angelic even; a voice made for ballads and ad-libs. It matches well with his own deeper one. They play the whole song through, Kyungsoo’s voice tapering off when Chanyeol starts to rap.

“Why aren’t you a singing major?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “I love singing, but I love cooking more.” He says, putting his headphones back in. “You can play, just keep it quiet.”

This is how he finds out about Kyungsoo’s underlying sweetness, how he’s been observing him back. So Chanyeol smiles at him, keeps smiling even when Kyungsoo catches him and snaps _“what,”_ uncomfortable, before turning back around, obviously embarrassed.

Chanyeol doesn’t mind. He knows now that Kyungsoo doesn’t like complicated, doesn’t like the unpredictability of interaction, likes being out of the spotlight.

Which makes no sense when a few months later, he finds out just who Kyungsoo’s best friend is.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there, that's Kyungsoo and Chanyeol's meeting done. 
> 
> next chapter: Baekhyun


	3. smashed phone but no regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!
> 
> Just letting you know that this story will update every Monday. And unlike my last two fics, there are no story overlaps.
> 
> :3

Baekhyun bounces on his feet as he raps his knuckles against the door of room 365, wrinkling his nose at the frat-boy smell. He regrets the quick glance he shoots around the corridor, spotting peeling wallpaper and a patch of mould growing on the roof.

Baekhyun pulls his oversized pastel sweater tighter around himself; he’s too pretty for a place like this.

The door opens and inside stands the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Baekhyun subconsciously licks his lips.

With endearing sticky-out ears, big features, and dyed-brown hair (probably a _little_ long for Baekhyun’s taste), he’s _adorable_. But then Baekhyun takes in the broadness and the height that surely hits the six-foot mark, and thinks _hmm,_ _probably strong enough to fuck me against the wall_. (If he’s that way inclined, of course).

“Who is it?” A grumpy voice comes from inside the room, unmistakably Kyungsoo, who, admittedly, Baekhyun had completely forgotten about.

“Me!” Baekhyun sings, ducking under the arm his new wet-dream lifts to let him in, bounding over to stand next to Kyungsoo.

“Baekhyun this is my roommate Chanyeol, Chanyeol this is Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo intones, spinning in his desk chair, sighing, looking like he wishes he was anywhere else but here right now.

Chanyeol’s hand when he stretches out to shake it is disarmingly big, swallowing his own delicate one. He gives the man an appreciative once-over, hums, and says, “Nice to meet you… Yoda.”

Kyungsoo hisses, “ _Baekhyun_ ,” immediately and kicks his toes into Baekhyun’s shin, which actually really fucking hurts.

“It’s all good,” Chanyeol reassures, and shit how his voice rumbles nicely, “I think he was just overwhelmed at how big I was.”

Baekhyun is saved the indignity of replying after his mouth gapes, because Kyungsoo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t deal with this. This is the _exact reason_ why I never wanted you two to meet.”

Unoffended, Chanyeol smiles big and wide and cute, leaving Baekhyun wondering where that innuendo had come from (and with a strange sense of pride). “Don’t worry about it Soo,” The man says. “I have to go anyway, I’ve got work in half an hour.”

After a few minutes of bustling around the room – _god he’s cute_ – Chanyeol disappears out of the door with a “see ya!” and an adorable little wave and Baekhyun is _smitten._ He rolls the name _Chanyeol_ around in his mouth for a minute to see if he likes the taste (hint: _he does_ ), still looking at the spot he last saw those broad shoulders.

“No,” Kyungsoo says from his desk, pointing an accusing finger already by the time Baekhyun turns, demanding he holds the words in his mouth. “Don’t you _dare_.”

“But-“

“-No,” Kyungsoo repeats, wire-rimmed glasses only adding to the severity. “You are not screwing my roommate, I don’t care how ‘endearing it is, the way his lips form his words, or how tall he is,”’ he says, fingers adding quotation marks and it’s _scary_ just how well Soo can read his mind sometimes.

Baekhyun drops it for now, mainly because he came here to ask a favour, and knows from experience that ignoring Kyungsoo’s wishes is not the way to get what he wants. He flops across Kyungsoo’s bed, hand resting against his stomach.

“What did you want?”

“Who said I wanted anything Soo? Maybe I just wanted to see you, is that –“

“-No.” Kyungsoo interrupts. “You would still be bugging me about Chanyeol if you didn’t want anything. So, _what do you want_?”

“A hundred and fifty dollars?” Baekhyun tries, going for meek, holding out his phone, screen dead and smashed.

“What did you do.” It’s not even a question.

“Dropped it.” He replies, evasively. It’s not like Kyungsoo needs to know that Baekhyun was standing on his kitchen bench trying to get the perfect selfie lighting when it slipped out of his hand.

“No.”

“Please,” Baekhyun pleads, voice coming out in a whine because although Kyungsoo is a University student, he is careful with his money. Baekhyun on the other hand, is not.

“No.”

“I’ll do anything,” Baekhyun begs, desperate.

Kyungsoo considers him for a minute. “I’ll think about it,” he says, before putting his headphone back in.

“When will you make up your mind? Because I need to know Soo. _Soo?_ ”

But Kyungsoo has gone back to the notes spread over his desk – pictures of different food on them. There’s no way Baekhyun will get his attention now; when Kyungsoo decides their conversation is over, it’s over. (He does pass Baekhyun his tablet though).

Four hours later, Baekhyun is still with Kyungsoo, still being ignored. Rolled up in Soo’s duvet, legs poking out and swinging off the bed. He’d watched a movie and spent too long on YouTube, but he’s hungry and bored now. Kyungsoo is still at his desk, scribbling notes in his careful writing. _Who knew_ there were _pages_ of stuff to write about food?

At five-thirty, when Baekhyun is waiting for the tablet to load so he can look sadly at the dismal state of his bank account, the door opens. Baekhyun perks up as Chanyeol fights his way through the door – literally - tripping over the guitar case in his hand somehow and banging his shoulder against the doorframe. It’s not a quiet entry, and even Kyungsoo (who had somehow worked through Baekhyun throwing things at him) looks up.

There’s a big smile on Chanyeol’s face when he sees them, and his hair is half-tied up in a ponytail. “Hi.”

Kyungsoo returns the greeting before turning back to his work, Baekhyun smiles with all his teeth, deliberate in the way his eyes trail down Chanyeol’s body. He opens his mouth, to say something teasing, but glances down at the tablet in his lap and a screech escapes his mouth. A hundred and fifty dollars had been added to his account.

Baekhyun leaps off the bed and shakes off the duvet, and rushes over to hug Kyungsoo over the back of the armchair. Kyungsoo - who saw the attack coming - drops his pen but doesn’t push him away until Baekhyun presses a sloppy kiss to the side of his face.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kyungsoo says, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek. “It’s only because you’re dumb enough to go out and get yourself killed and I don’t want your death to be on my conscience.”

“Of course,” he says, not really paying attention as Chanyeol has just bent over in front of him.

Kyungsoo throws the pen at him.

It bounces off his arm. Despite the sting, Baekhyun cackles, laughing harder when Chanyeol shoots Kyungsoo a questioning look. Head cocked like a puppy and everything.

“Okay, get out of my room,” Kyungsoo demands.

“It’s Chanyeol’s room too,” Baekhyun replies, cheeky, looking up at the man through his eyelashes.

“ _Get out_ Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun listens because Kyungsoo did just do him a favour and he knows how stressful school is. Especially when their exams are coming up. Happy, as he makes his way through the corridor he somehow can’t smell the body odour that permeates the walls, or see the suspicious stains on the floor.

And it’s definitely not the last he sees of Chanyeol.

No, Baekhyun makes very sure of that.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Hi!
> 
> This is the companion piece to the previous chapter (the whole reason I'm allowing myself to post it in the same day ha-ha). This chapter involves something that is just a small throwaway reference made in Autumn Eyes if any of you have read that.
> 
> Enjoy, and please comment!

“So Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks casually, during exam week. They’re both in their dorm because the library is _packed._

Kyungsoo shoots him a look he’d rather not dither under, so Chanyeol shuffles the empty music sheets on his desk. How Kyungsoo can look threatening with his hair tufted like a baby bird and drooping eyes behind his glasses, Chanyeol will never know.

Three empty coffee cups sit in the bin under Kyungsoo’s desk. (Which means he’s stressed beyond words because Kyungsoo didn't even like coffee. Chanyeol knows this because he sees his face contort every time he takes a sip).

Still, he looks better then Chanyeol, who has _five_ empty energy-drink cans lining his desk and instead of his papers and stationary all neatly set in rows, he has just a pencil on his desk (he lost his eraser an hour ago when he was trying to see how far he could make it bounce off the wall).

“How did you meet him?” Chanyeol tries again, smoothing his hair back into a ponytail, flicking his lighter off and on to watch the flame disappear and reappear. He is bored, and curious because Baekhyun seems more like the friend he’d make then Kyungsoo would.

“We’ve been friends since we were twelve. He literally just annoyed me until I spoke to him.” Kyungsoo answers in the end, sighing resignedly, like he knew this was coming.

Chanyeol makes a low “ _ahh_ ,” from the back of his throat, leaning back in his chair. He’s only seen Baekhyun a handful of times since they first met, the older boy always seeming to be leaving when he arrives, but always managing to flirt into his space. Chanyeol can’t get over how _pretty_ he is, short and soft-looking, delicately-made but with strong shoulders and voice that can drop into low seduction in a second.

“Chanyeol!” comes Kyungsoo’s shout and Chanyeol yelps, leaping back, because in his distraction his hand dropped low and has set a flame to the corner of one of his papers. The flame is hungry, eating up the sheets, flickering with a yawn and climbing to the edge of the curtain before either of them make a move.

With a shout, Kyungsoo grabs the sweatshirt on the back of his chair to smack the rising flames, and any other time Chanyeol would cry out because _that’s his favourite hoodie,_ but he doesn’t think that would be appropriate right now.

“Open the window and cover the fire alarm!” he cries at the still-frozen Chanyeol, whose eyes are fixed on the yellow-orange-red blaze. The panic in Kyungsoo’s voice is what finally makes him move.

“How?” He near-screams back after throwing open the window, warming heat threatening to sear his hand. The fire alarm is at the top of the roof how in the hell is he going to reach it?

“Stand on the bed you tall dense bastard!” Kyungsoo shouts, batting the hoodie down even harder. One of the ignited papers falls to the ground and he curses, stomping on it.

Chanyeol does as he’s told, Kyungsoo’s swear shocking him into action, pulling off his shirt and holding it over the alarm. He braces his arm against the roof to hold himself steady. Under his feet the corner of the mattress shifts and slips, his socked feet not holding much purchase.

“It’s out!”

Relieved, Chanyeol goes to step down, but his footing had been tremulous at best, and the corner of the bed dips alarmingly under his foot. With nothing to hold onto anymore, Chanyeol falls with a yelp, hitting the ground ass-first, his mess of limbs following soon behind.

At the least the ground broke his fall, he thinks, rolling over so his face is squished into the carpet.

"Chanyeol?" Kyungsoo asks when the silence has stretched on for a minute.

"All good," he replies, turning over to starfish on his back.

Kyungsoo is the picture of concern, leaning over him with big-wide eyes. (Concern betrayed only by the grin breaking across his face).

Chanyeol lets out a huge breath, tipping his chin back to the ceiling. Kyungsoo fall-sits onto the bed beside him.

Begrudgingly, but without argument, Chanyeol hands over the lighter into Kyungsoo’s outstretched palm.

"How are we looking?" Chanyeol asks eventually, breaking the silence of their near miss catching up to them.

Calculating, Kyungsoo observes the scene, "Well, your spare papers are burnt to a crisp, there's a scorch mark across your desk, and the curtain is slightly charred."

 _Thank god_ his music and phone were on his bed.

Chanyeol has his own survey of the room. There's also water from one of their drink bottle's dripping from the corner of the wood, puddled lightly on the floor and even splashed against the wall. He turns to Kyungsoo and nods gravely.

They hold that eye contact for a minute before bursting into laughter. High-pitched nervous laughter, but laughter nonetheless.

“Room with me next year?” Kyungsoo asks when it tapers, out-of-the-blue.

“You _want_ me to room with you?” Chanyeol asks near incredulous because he kind of just very nearly set their room on fire.

Wrong thing to say because Kyungsoo frowns. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Yeah okay,” he says, trying for casual to bely his excitement, because as many friends as he’s made this year, none of them are like Kyungsoo.

Uneventful, they turn back to their study in silence, ignoring the bitter burnt smell in the room.

Chanyeol thinks about Kyungsoo’s offer while he’s pulling apart lyrical pieces. Drumming his pencil against the desk until Kyungsoo tells him to quit it.

Because surely he’s going to screw this up. Surely, in the remaining weeks until the end of the year, Kyungsoo will see Chanyeol in a new light and take his offer back.

 

 

 

 

( _He doesn’t. Not even when Chanyeol spills coffee all down Kyungsoo’s front half an hour before his first interview at a restaurant for the upcoming year._

_Chanyeol wants to cry. Wants to cry even harder when Kyungsoo soothes him, tells him it’s okay, gets another shirt and leaves with a very awkward pat on his shoulder)._

_(Kyungsoo gets the job)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last Kyungsoo-Chanyeol chapter, and from now on we'll start the Baekhyun and Chanyeol!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy :3

 

Chanyeol shifts his box under his left arm so he can fish his key out of whatever pocket he’d put it in (the back one apparently). The receptionist lady had been nice and helpful, pointing him in the direction of his new dorm with a smile.

It’s on the opposite side of the University to last year, and its already much nicer. The corridor ceilings are tall and white (actual white, not the yellow-white that alcohol, piss and time have faded other frat corridors to). Glass walls encase the concrete stairs and light refracts off the corner of the building and into the halls, sun slicing through with the blue of the sky. High windows grant the illusion of an abundance of space – in reality, the corridors are all the same size, but the clean simplicity is stunning.

Unlocking room 1261 (he didn’t know the numbers went up that high) Chanyeol shoulders his way into his dorm, trying to keep the box from tipping.

Untouched, the room is dark, lit only by the sun curling translucent through the curtains, which Chanyeol opens after placing his armful on the floor. In the light, it’s easier to see that the room is more spacious than last year, done in navy blue and grey. The furniture is bigger (hopefully this year his ankles won't hang off his bed). Perks of being in second-year.

He shrugs and heads back out to pick up his other stuff, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Pity the room is on the third floor, Chanyeol thinks, rolling out his shoulders after he’s retrieved all his boxes from the car. Height doesn’t equate strength, and his calves are burning from the multiple trips up and down the stairs.

Taking a seat on a bed, Chanyeol nudges his stuff with his toe but doesn’t start putting anything away. He’ll let Kyungsoo claim the side of the room he wants.

His brief moment of peace is startled by a bang and some muffled cursing and Chanyeol opens the door to a box being shoved into his arms. Laden down suddenly by cooking equipment, he can only watch as Baekhyun groans, rubbing at his forearms and fixing the headphones falling out of his ear.

"I was not made for manual labour," he complains, pushing past Chanyeol and into the room.

It’s been a few months since he saw him last. In that time Baekhyun hasn’t changed much, still short and fine-boned, although his hair is now blond and straight, fluffed up by exertion. There’s a sheen of sweat lining his forehead.

Kicking the door semi-shut, Chanyeol places the box on the desk, watching Baekhyun look around the dorm. "Where's Kyungsoo?"

"At work," Baekhyun replies, flopping onto a bed, not bothering to fix his shirt when it rides up.

"How'd he get you to help?"

"I still owe him for paying off my phone apparently,” Baekhyun explains, a delicate wrist over his eyes, legs bent over the side of the bed.

 _Well,_ it’s not like Chanyeol has anything else to do today. "How many boxes?"

"What?"

"How many boxes are left to bring up?"

"Three? Four? I don't know," Baekhyun complains. “All I know is that they’re heavy as fuck.”

"I'll help you."

With an energy that has seemingly just returned, Baekhyun leaps off the bed, and Chanyeol follows the older boy back down the steps, somehow feeling like he’s just been played. (He can't bring himself to mind).

“Did you park this?” Chanyeol asks when he sees Kyungsoo’s car has been parked haphazardly across three parks. He’s actually offended.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun shrugs.

“Give me the keys.”

After parking the car somewhere not on yellow lines, Chanyeol helps Baekhyun bring up Kyungsoo’s belongings.

Although Chanyeol is used to carrying the weight of his instruments - used to the guitar case digging uncomfortably into his shoulder - having to juggle boxes is completely different. It’s almost unhelpful that Kyungsoo packs so neat because although there are fewer boxes, it makes them heavier than Chanyeol’s ones. By the time they bring up the last package, Chanyeol is sweating and has retired his flannel to around his waist.

He supposes it should be awkward with Baekhyun, they’re not friends, not really - they’ve spent such little time together - but it’s not. Conversation flows between them, about nothing, inane comments on how he’s carrying his box wrong, and that _I bet I can beat you up those stairs._ (For the record Baekhyun cheated).

Exhausted, they’ve just sat back down, when Kyungsoo enters the room. Literally, the only thing that has changed about him since the first year is the fact he’s wearing a flour-dusted apron.

"Hi Chanyeol,” he greets, a smile splitting his mouth into a heart. “How were your holidays?”

"Good, visited my parents, worked a lot. You?"

"Great great,” Kyungsoo says dismissively, swatting at Baekhyun’s leg “- move.”

Exhaustion taking the bite out of him, Baekhyun does at he’s told, swinging his feet onto Chanyeol’s lap instead. They watch quietly as Kyungsoo starts to pack his stuff away. He’s not one for talking about himself.

“Pizza?” Chanyeol asks an hour later when the light is starting to be leeched out of the sky, leaving purple, orange and yellow behind. As University doesn’t start for another week, dinner isn’t provided.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo says from where he’s buried deep in the closet, hanging up his jackets. Baekhyun mumbles into the carpet and Chanyeol takes that as a yes, squeezing the socked heel in his palm. It’s not an action he thinks much about, even though he should.

Unfolding his limbs which have gone fuzzy from being pressed lax to the ground for so long, Chanyeol pulls up his jeans, grabs his wallet and keys and leaves.

When he returns, the three sit sprawled across the dorm room floor as they eat, elbows pressed into the carpet and one another, the conversation quiet but continuous. Chanyeol talks about where he went over the holidays, Baekhyun follows with an embarrassing story of Kyungsoo that he gets hit for (but it ultimately lacks bite when the shorter man laughs). Amongst the piled boxes of their possessions and the fading sun streaming through the window, it almost feels like the three of them have been friends for years.

They stay like this until all that’s left is crumbs and cardboard, until the temperature has dipped low with the sun. Then Kyungsoo kicks Baekhyun out.

When he’s left alone, Chanyeol means to make a start on unpacking, he really does, but instead belly-flops onto his bed and falls asleep.


	6. three instances in which Baekhyun and Chanyeol should've kissed but didn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so out of all my chapters so far this is my favourite one. It spans a couple of weeks - months maybe, and each linebreak is a different instant and p.o.v. Now, I headcanon it that Kyungsoo struggles with putting emotions into words and that the result is that sometimes it can come out as not caring. You'll see what I mean in the first section.
> 
> um also, slight reference to reference to sex in the very last paragraph. It's not explicit but if it makes you uncomfortable just skip the last block of text after the gap.
> 
> Enjoy :3

 

 

Chanyeol is slumped in his chair, tapping the end of his pencil maddeningly against the desk with eyes fixed on the low-hanging corner of his poster, when the door opens.

"You're not Kyungsoo," Baekhyun says from the doorway, stealing the words right out of Chanyeol's mouth.

"And _you_ don't have a key," Chanyeol counters once he’s over his surprise, seeing a chopstick hanging loosely in Baekhyun's hand.

"Yeah," Baekhyun says, twirling it around his fingers. "Soo wouldn't give me one."

"I'm not surprised," Chanyeol laughs.

He hasn’t talked properly to Baekhyun since he helped him help Kyungsoo move in, three weeks ago. They've seen each other a handful of times but only in passing, because an increasingly stressed Chanyeol has been spending the majority of his time in the practice rooms.

Baekhyun falls into silence when Chanyeol stands to fix the poster. Baekhyun’s eyes follow him, mouth set in that perfect inverted ‘v’ as he watches, and Chanyeol’s ears burn. It’s a different sort of feeling to the last time they were alone together. This, behind the closed dorm door with the curtains closed and lights dim, feels like the rise of a rollercoaster before the inevitable fall.

Then Baekhyun’s moves closer and Chanyeol sees the bruise shadowing under his cheekbone.

"Woah, are you okay?" Chanyeol says, in Baekhyun's space before he can even think, fingers brushing across skin before he realises how intimate the action is.

"Yeah," Baekhyun says, not moving away, almost nuzzling into Chanyeol's hand.

"What happened?" Chanyeol asks in a murmur that he didn’t realise his voice could do. Next to Baekhyun’s slight face, his hand looks gigantic.

Baekhyun is nonchalant. "The typical. Some guy thought I was hitting on his girl and wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise. Thought I was mouthing off when I told him I don't fancy girls. Punched me."

Embarrassingly, Chanyeol’s mind only hinges on one part of that sentence. "You're gay?"

"As a rainbow. You?"

It's a personal question, and to be fair Chanyeol did ask it first. For a moment, he does nothing but appraise Baekhyun with steady eyes, hand still holding the older boy’s face… "I'm attracted to people as they are."

Eyes gleam, pleased with the answer and Chanyeol doesn't know who moves first, but now they’re even closer than they were before. The older boy really is beautiful; the most revered of the sculptor’s works, crafted with the steadiest hand. Chanyeol didn’t know it was a trait Byun Baekhyun could possess, but now that they’re here, Baekhyun becomes almost shy under his gaze. Eyes darting around the room and pearled cheeks, zealousness reduced into a hushed presence.

A pause.

Kyungsoo makes the decision for them before the flag falls, walking into the room, dropping his textbooks on the desk with a loud thud. He turns. "Why is your face uglier?"

Baekhyun makes a show of picking at his nails. “Got punched.”

“Thank them for me,” Kyungsoo says with a shrug, before turning away from the bed to Chanyeol. “You coming to dinner?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol replies, using his legs to control the spin of his chair back and forth. His eyes briefly catch Baekhyun’s. Back and forth.

“Well hurry up the- _Oh_ for _god’s sake_ Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo cuts himself off, reprimanding, and Chanyeol freezes until he sees Kyungsoo’s eyes are looking at the chopstick that hadn’t quite rolled under the bed.

Baekhyun leaps off the bed to get away from Kyungsoo, darting out of the room. His laugh trails behind him as he disappears without a goodbye, but with a lavish wink.

Unfortunately, Kyungsoo is perceptive. “Did something happen?”

“What? No?” Chanyeol replies in a voice that he’s sure is an octave higher than normal even though it’s the truth, pinned to his seat by Kyungsoo’s gaze. Chanyeol’s a terrible liar. And he doesn’t really want to tell his roommate that he’s kind of maybe developing a crush on his best friend?

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow. For a beat there’s silence and Chanyeol holds his breath. “Never mind, I’ve decided I don’t care. Now hurry up to dinner before all the good food is gone.”

 

* * *

 

Holding his jacket securely to his chest, Baekhyun decides it would be a good start to not piss Kyungsoo off first thing this morning so knocks on the door. He’s also got no choice - Kyungsoo confiscated his chopstick.

“It’s open Baekhyun.”

So good so far. Kyungsoo evens sounds like he’s in a respectable mood today. Or maybe he’s just being kind – Baekhyun could tell he felt guilty about his throwaway comment about his bruise the other day and had spent the last two nights inquiring about his well-being in the subtle slightly-snarky way he does.

Kyungsoo is sitting at his desk, removing his earphones to around his neck, greeting Baekhyun with a smile. He _is_ in a good mood today. Usually, he ignores Baekhyun for his assessment, telling him to _fuck off_ when he gets too close. Maybe he finally got laid?

“What is he doing?” Baekhyun asks, sitting carefully, folding his legs beneath him. Because unlike Kyungsoo’s calm, Chanyeol is pacing, headphones in, muttering things to himself. He is so out of it he didn’t even notice Baekhyun’s entrance.

“Writing a song. He’s been doing this all morning.”

As if to reiterate Kyungsoo’s point, Chanyeol suddenly dives for his bed, frantically grabbing for a sheet of paper and scribbling wildly on it.

“Weird,” Baekhyun says out loud but is inwardly praising how nice Chanyeol looks stretched out. Taller than he was last year, Chanyeol’s ankles hang over the edge. In a tank top it’s not hard to see he’s filled out some more, especially in the arms (which makes Baekhyun's throat dry). His hair no longer reaches his shoulders, but stylishly cut instead to his ears.

Kyungsoo smiles. "You're welcome.”

Baekhyun assumes he means the hair. Unless of course, he’s secretly pumping Chanyeol with steroids. "How’d you convince him to do it?"

"Asked if he wanted to come with me to get my hair cut. Key did the rest."

Kyungsoo turns back to his assignment when Baekhyun hums, not quite sure what to say.

Baekhyun stays. Regardless of being ignored, the University wi-fi runs better than it does in the excuse he calls an apartment. Even Kyungsoo’s half-company is better than nothing. His leg jitters in boredom though, and he holds a hand to his stomach.

Chanyeol looks up for the first time when Kyungsoo leaves. (For a class? For work? Baekhyun doesn’t remember). Baekhyun is instantly greeted with a smile, and a large hand pulling the headphones to his neck.

“Hi Baekhyun, when did you get here?”

Baekhyun laughs. “Half an hour ago.”

Chanyeol is immediately apologetic, a tiny furrow between his brows. “Sorry sorry I was writing – Um Baekhyun _why_ is your coat moving?”

He grins. Guess who just woke up. Crouching down, and letting his jacket open properly now that Kyungsoo has gone, letting Mongryong crawl out. (Kyungsoo had looked at him so weirdly when he kept excusing himself to the bathroom).

Chanyeol automatically drops to the ground, cuddling the corgi into his arms. “What’s his name? How old is he?”

Baekhyun grins at his excitement. “Mongryong. He’s three.”

Chanyeol practically coos, rocking back and forth, cheek against the puppy’s fur. Goes still when Baekhyun slides forward to give Mongryong a treat from his pocket.

“Got a bowl anywhere?”

“Top of the closet left side I think. It’ll be in a cardboard box,” Chanyeol replies, playing with Mongryong’s paw as he watches Baekhyun stretch to reach.

There are a few treacherous seconds as he pulls the box teetering forward by his fingers, but Baekhyun gets the box down safely. He finds a bowl amongst a bundle of red and black, more cutlery and some other random bits and pieces. Baekhyun doesn’t comment on the bottle of lube he finds, just continues putting everything back (with a noticeably dryer throat).

After a mad dash to the fountain to fill the bowl with water without anyone noticing, Baekhyun flops back onto the floor, out of breath. Chanyeol is sitting cross-legged stroking Mongryong’s fur as he laps up the water.

He wriggles until the bed is against his back. “What were you writing earlier?”

Chanyeol looks shy but is proud in his answer. “I’m a second-year music student and for the end of semester assessment, we have to write and produce a song. I’ve figured out the musical score but I’m working on the lyrics.”

Baekhyun hums.

For the next hour, they stay where they are, just chatting. It’s easy. For all his bluster, Baekhyun is less extroverted than he portrays, and Chanyeol fills all the gaps without even trying, with stories and jokes, and an inescapable laugh that looks like he’s crying.

Mongryong has gotten bored of exploring the room it seems and has curled up by Chanyeol’s knee.

“Chanyeol are you okay? Are you getting sick?” Baekhyun asks when the younger man sneezes; the third time in five minutes. In fact, his nose is red and so are his ears.

“Well,” Chanyeol starts, looking almost _embarrassed?_ “I’m actually allergic to dogs - Please don’t tell Soo. It’ll only further his proof that I’m an idiot.” He says the last part in a rush. Despite his words and subsequent sneeze, he’s grinning wide, teeth touching.

One of his eyes squints slightly more than the other and Baekhyun is so endeared. In the past half an hour they’ve drawn closer to each other, and Baekhyun gets the biggest urge to poke the rare-to-show dimple. Baekhyun has never been good at denying himself anything so he does. Chanyeol turns his head at the exact same time, and he ends up squishing his finger into his cheek, puffing his lip out. It’s cute.

Baekhyun is a little star-struck.

Naturally, Soo has to ruin the moment.

"No," Kyungsoo says as soon as he walks in, seeing Mongryong on the floor. “I’m not getting kicked out of my dorm because you have no regards for rules. Go home Baekhyun. Now.”

Baekhyun pouts. Unfortunately for him Kyungsoo is largely immune and his glare doesn’t even waver.

He sighs and picks Mongryong up, tucking him into his jacket, careful. Blows a cheeky kiss at Kyungsoo so he frowns even harder, and waves goodbye to Chanyeol. Chanyeol is still smiling, overflowing with genuine cheerfulness.

It makes Baekhyun grin as he walks down the corridor, pressing his nose into his jacket where Mongryong is hidden. He likes Chanyeol, he really does. Likes his big dumb ears, the eagerness that unfolds over his long limbs, the smile that is never far from his face. The realisation comes with abject horror.

 _Fuck_. He _likes_ Chanyeol.

He's got a _crush_ on Kyungsoo's roommate.

(Depending on how you look at it, it kind of all goes downhill from there).

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the first semester, Kyungsoo walks in on Chanyeol having a breakdown.

The news had come to him an hour ago and Chanyeol's been pacing ever since, throwing paper around the room and muttering to himself; fighting the urge to punch something (or cry). Because how in the hell is he going to find two singers in less than five days?

"What’s going on?” Kyungsoo asks in the tone that brokers no argument.

Anxiety bubbles over frustration bubbling over an overwhelming sense of distress; it all bursts out in a ramble. "For my assessment this semester we needed to write and produce a song to be performed at a showcase and we need a minimum of three artists and I'm already playing the piano and doing the rap but my two singers have both just pulled out for no reason and I only have four days to find two people who can sing and learn a whole song. Not to mention that all the vocal students have already been asked to help -"

"- Chanyeol breathe," Kyungsoo interrupts. "How high do the voices need to be?"

Chanyeol flounders for a minute because all of his mental processes are screaming _panic, abandon ship, all is hopeless_ but Kyungsoo's glare is grounding enough. "Fairly high, but it was written for three males to perform."

"I can sing for you. So can Baekhyun; he owes me." Kyungsoo says, voice steady with finality as if it’s already settled, and Chanyeol knows he’s not going to change his mind.

The relief that sweeps over him is overwhelming, lifting the iron weight that settled in his stomach. Chanyeol doesn’t even ask if he’s sure, lunging forward, so happy he could almost  –

Kyungsoo is quicker. "Don't you dare kiss me."

"How about a hug?" Chanyeol asks, bouncing back on his feet.

Kyungsoo sighs, but he can't quite hide the lift of his mouth. "If you must."

"Thank you!" Chanyeol bursts, squeezing Kyungsoo to him until the stoic man is hidden in the cage of his arms. “No, but fully serious thank you so much, this means a lot to me. You’ve really saved me here Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol adds earnestly.

The shorter man wriggles out of his arms pretty quickly, the line of his thick brows straight. He won’t meet Chanyeol’s eyes. “You’re welcome I guess… We have to get started right away, don’t we? I’ll call Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol nods and lets him leave the room without pushing it, not wanting to embarrass him further. Trying to slow his heart rate and himself, he flops down across his bed (can’t quite kill his smile though).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol lets his fingers dance the ending sequence, pausing on the last press of the ivory key. The song was melancholic, far from Chanyeol’s usual style, and he swallows around the tears that have blocked up the back of his throat. (He doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath until the curtain closes).

Only when he’s hidden from sight and the makeshift MC announces the end of the showcase does Chanyeol move, letting his head fall forward. He jumps when he accidentally bumps the microphone, and moves it out of his way, before closing the piano and sitting back on the stool.

All of Chanyeol’s relief tangibly comes out in a sigh. It went smoothly. Perfect even, considering Baekhyun and Kyungsoo learnt the song in four days, and considering he had no actual idea how their voices would sound with the song. Lemonade and chocolate, their voices contrast but much like them, they work together well.

When Chanyeol looks up Kyungsoo is standing still, unable to stop his heart-smile from breaking across his face. Baekhyun on the other hand, bounces, clutching the microphone to his chest. Chanyeol’s own grin probably looks slightly manic. He’s already exhausted his thank you’s, but can’t help say it one more time, beaming. They walk down the back steps of the open-air stage together, handing over the microphones to the event organiser, Heechul.

"Do you have a meeting now?" Kyungsoo asks comfort wrapped around the three of them like a blanket.

Chanyeol stretches his arms to touch the lowest hanging branch of the tree they’ve stopped by. "Nah, they'll grade over the weekend and talk to us all on Monday."

A quiet Baekhyun nudges him then, points to where one of his teachers is beckoning him. Confused, Chanyeol cocks his head, but makes his way over, not missing the slight squeeze of his wrist Baekhyun gives.

Luckily, his teacher only has praises to give. Trying to not show the happiness that fizzes through his bones, Chanyeol nods sedately, excitement only growing as his professor continues to give him good feedback. Incredibly relieved, because the poker-faces of his graders from the front row was nothing short of nerve-wracking, Chanyeol bows before heading back to his friends. He buzzes. "The professor said he was impressed!"

Baekhyun high-fives him with a cheeky canine-baring grin. Kyungsoo offers a sincere “congrats,” but he’s smiling too.

A little smug, Chanyeol grins when he sees Baekhyun has removed the pastel-blue sweater he wore for the performance. Underneath is one of Chanyeol's white button-ups; borrowed in a hurry after Baekhyun spilt something down his own, half an hour before they were due on stage. Oversized is a good look on him, sleeves hanging past his hands, and drooping past his hips.

“Chanyeol, I’m gonna drive Baekhyun home to get ready. Meet you at the dorm in thirty?”

With difficulty, Chanyeol pulls his appreciative eyes away from the triangle of skin at Baekhyun’s neck. “Sure!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol hums a spy-tune to himself as he darts up the stairs, into his dorm, into the communal bathrooms with the bundle in his arms. With all his stressing over the performance and the exhilaration of being on stage, he’d almost forgotten about the Halloween party. Luckily, he’s been prepared for months.

He nods seriously at his reflection as he passes the mirrors.

 _It should be interesting to drink with Kyungsoo and Baekhyun_ , Chanyeol muses, scrubbing his hair. He laughs, imagining Kyungsoo as a slutty drunk.

Keeps laughing too, until he gets shampoo in his eye. Swearing profusely at the stinging, Chanyeol reaches for his towel, only to miss. The water shoots cold. Yelping and back arching away from the chill, he scrambles for the tap, accidentally kicking over all his bottles and almost ripping down the shower curtain in his wake.

“You alright dude?” A guy asks, judgement clear in his voice and the raised eyebrow when Chanyeol bursts out of the stall, chest heaving and towel sagging dangerously around his waist.

“Yeah – _yeah_ ,” he says, arm held against the wall in feigned nonchalance.

Despite the smile, the guy still looks at him weirdly. “Well dude, next time you’re jacking off, remember they’re communal showers and we _can_ hear you.”

He gathers his stuff up and leaves before Chanyeol can do more than splutter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol concludes as he flops down on his bed, that leather is harder to get into than he thought.

It’s only the thought of Kyungsoo and Baekhyun bursting in to see him face-down on the bed with the costume half up his thighs that gets him moving. Breathing sharply out of his mouth, Chanyeol wiggles his body like a dying fish a few times to inch the costume up his body. He huffs out a laugh. _Sexy._

A few minutes later of grasping, pulling, and angry muttering, Chanyeol pops up from where he’s rolled onto the floor, now fully dressed. Sliding his swords into their sheaths on his back, Chanyeol winks at his reflection, checking himself out a little. The suit had been expensive, but worth it, when he sees how it looks. There’s the sound of a key in the lock, and Chanyeol slips on the mask.

“Oh my god Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says when he flicks on the light.

“I’m not Chanyeol,” Chanyeol replies a beat later.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, crossing the room. “Whatever you say ‘Deadpool.’”

Chanyeol ignores the sarcastic quotation marks. Unimaginative, Kyungsoo is pretty much dressed like normal, in all black. The only difference is the mask tucked under his arm, and his eyes are lined with kohl (later Baekhyun tells Chanyeol it was the greatest moment in his life when Kyungsoo asked him grudgingly to put it on for him).

Baekhyun stays a shadow in the doorway until he’s not, and Chanyeol almost chokes on his tongue. Because there’s _so much skin._ White cloth drapes over his body and one shoulder pulled in at the waist by a gold cord. Criss-cross of sandal straps wind up his calves and frame delicate ankles. Bare legs, bare arms.

Chanyeol is perturbed by how deep his voice is when he asks if Baekhyun is any god in particular.

“Apollo,” is the reply, coming with small cardboard harp, and a spin to show the toy bow strapped to his back. (Chanyeol does not stare at the swish of fabric around Baekhyun’s thighs, _he doesn’t_ ).

Like usual, Kyungsoo ruins the moment. “I’m ready, hurry up you two.”

The three of them walk across the quad together. The party is being hosted at a mansion-house five minutes from the University. Their senior, Jonghyun, is rich, but kind and generous, and apparently always takes advantage of the holidays that the University turns a blind eye too.

Although surprisingly mild for an autumn night, Chanyeol slings his arm around Baekhyun’s bare shoulder anyway, careful not to knock the finely-made gold circlet resting on top of his hair. (He decides fairly quickly that he likes the way the smaller man fits against his side).

When they get off campus, Chanyeol walks the curb, arms stretched for balance. Clumps of people are heading in the same direction; he sees a cat, a few nurses, a Thor. Unrecognizable from his mask, and energy rising from the bottle of soju he skulled before leaving, Chanyeol’s excitement bursts.

With a whoop that startles Baekhyun, Chanyeol runs across the next few benches he finds, vaulting over every post (until he almost lands straight on his dick, then settles instead for posing on every surface he can).

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Kyungsoo points out, failing to hold in a smile when Chanyeol ~~falls~~ rolls out of a handstand to sit with legs splayed on the pavement. Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, but when Chanyeol looks up through his mask, he’s smiling, offering a hand up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A red solo cup finds his hand as soon as they walk in. The liquid inside is a garish pink, cloying, a very very artificial strawberry. Definitely not natural. Chanyeol swirls it around for a second, then downs it. He smacks his lips. (He was wrong; it’s _cherry_ ). He hands the rest over to Baekhyun who’d been tugging at his arm. They share the cup Kyungsoo offers them too.

Kyungsoo disappears in a search for “soju. Or anything that doesn’t look like poison.”

Chanyeol stays in the entranceway for a minute, nodding his head to the loud music thumping from another room. Baekhyun’s a lightweight it seems, giggling after two drinks, disappearing suddenly into the crowd calling after a girl he saw. Tae-yeung? Tae-eun? (Chanyeol didn’t quite catch it).

He smiles to himself not minding that he’s just been ditched and migrates for the kitchen, where the alcohol is. It’s packed with people he doesn’t know but it doesn’t bother him. Chanyeol chats mindlessly to them, while he downs one, two, three drinks.

Probably because he’s tall, someone coerces him to play beer pong (she learns pretty quickly that although he’s a good shot, he’s also clumsy, and after he knocks over two cups and is forced into a table suck, she lets him go, pulling a rather willing boy out of the crowd to play instead). Chanyeol grins. Leaning against the wall to watch for a bit, he sees Kyungsoo approaching with a plastic fork in his hand.

“I am not taking this with me for any particular reason,” he says suspiciously to Chanyeol, scowling as he passes, and Chanyeol follows his line of sight to see a concerned-looking Baekhyun weaving through the crowd.

Chanyeol chucks next his back drink but lets Kyungsoo go, shuddering. _Short people are dangerous._

Another drink is pressed into his hand. Man, these people are friendly. He lifts the bottom corner of his mask and chucks it back. Too hot, he pulls his mask off the rest of the way and tucks it into his belt, ruffling his hair.

Someone, mock-gasps beside him. “You’ve ruined the illusion. Fans over the world are crushed with the revelation of Deadpool’s secret identity – a tall, gangly beanpole.”

Smart-ass.

Chanyeol turns - a little too fast, causing him to wobble - to see a first-year vocal student next to him, and he doesn’t remember his name but recognises the shape of his mouth, even with half his face hidden by a mask. Chanyeol remembers how jealous he was when he couldn’t get the youth for the showcase; he’s got one of the best vocal ranges Chanyeol’s ever seen.

For a while, they chat; about things Chanyeol immediately forgets, and the boy soon excuses himself because he has to go, apologizing when he clips Chanyeol with his wings as he passes.

With enough alcohol shooting around his system, Chanyeol heads out into the middle of the room. He dances for a bit but is not very good. His eyes catch on an older boy dance and he winces - at least Chanyeol can keep to a rhythm. Puffing, (he’s not an athlete), Chanyeol retires (stumbles) to the outer fringe of the crowd, sagging into a couch.

Where he makes another friend. Onew, a senior with a cute smile.

Halfway through their conversation, Chanyeol finds himself with a lapful of Baekhyun. He’s not complaining, not with the arms that loop around his neck, the rectangular smile that is inches from his face. Not with the sight of Baekhyun’s toga pulling to tease high up his thighs.

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol asks as Baekhyun burrows himself even closer, radiating warmth, hiding his face in Chanyeol’s neck. (Not that he minds).

A mumble. “Hiding.”

From Kyungsoo, Chanyeol assumes. “Okay.”

Baekhyun lifts his head. Close, so close as he is now, Chanyeol can see how the apples of Baekhyun’s cheeks are flushed pink. Can see every detail of the gold makeup on his eyelids, and the way his eyes are gleaming – but that could be the light or the alcohol.

Not much is said after that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hurry _hurry_ ,” Chanyeol groans as the wicked mouth continues down his throat. The room is swimming from pleasure – or is that just the alcohol?

“Patience.” Is the reply, and it comes out distorted, comes out weird.

Chanyeol thumps his head back. White-knuckled, his hands are fisted in the sheets beside him as the trail of biting kisses go down, down down. His foot jerks reflexively at the cold fingers pressing, searching, and he hits bone, getting a purple bruise sucked into his hip in retribution.

He doesn’t really remember how they got here, where they are, just remembers stumbling into the room with hands tearing at his clothes, overwhelming, searing kisses pressed to his mouth, his neck, his body.

Chanyeol moans deep in his throat at the clumsy press into him. Alcohol tastes sweet at the back of his throat, and the hands that come down on his shoulders for balance are soft. With a lip pulled into his mouth to hold in his noises, Chanyeol’s legs come unprompted around the small waist. _Full, so full_. Hazy, half-shut eyes turn upwards to the ceiling.

Maybe it’s partially at fault for the alcohol, or just how well his prostate is being targeted, but it’s not long before Chanyeol’s orgasm washes over him, in waves. Pleasure muted by loose-limbs and fog of alcohol spinning through his body, Chanyeol doesn’t feel so much as see the body move away from him.

That’s not fair, he hasn’t come yet. Especially after making him feel so good. Wildly, Chanyeol pounces, pinning the small body beneath him with a grin and surprise. “Your turn.”

 

 


	7. Aftermath Pt. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys i'm really sorry for the late update - I concussed myself over the weekend and completely forgot about updating until today.
> 
> (just a warning, this is going to be a little bit angsty).

 

Jongdae laughs at him as he stumbles out of the car. Baekhyun flips him off.

He’d met Jongdae through Kyungsoo’s work and - much to his best friend’s chagrin - they'd hit it off pretty well. There’s a mischievous streak in the younger boy that Baekhyun would love to exploit (it's a pity just how far he is under Minseok's thumb).

Last night Jongdae had been sober and kind enough to drive back to the party to drive Baekhyun home (after Baekhyun rang him three times, genuinely fearing for his life, having pushed Kyungsoo into the middle of a dance circle). The younger man may be sweet but he’s definitely enjoying Baekhyun’s pain right now, smug behind black lenses, reclining in the driver’s seat.

“You’re a terrible dongsaeng,” Baekhyun whines when Jongdae lets out his too-loud laugh.

“Would a terrible dongsaeng give you this?” The teen replies, reaching into his glovebox and whipping a paper bag out of the window.

Overwhelmed by the heady smell of waffles once he has it secure in his hands, Baekhyun is contrite. “Jongdae, I love you.”

“As you should.” The eighteen-year-old laughs as Baekhyun moans around his mouthful. “I’ve got to go – class starts in ten.”

Baekhyun waves him off and heads towards Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s dorm.

The further into campus he travels, the louder it gets. Although Baekhyun tends not to get queasy with his hangovers, he does get the headaches and massages his forehead as he walks. Navigating through a group of freshmen, he catches sight of himself in a window and winces. Although not as bad as he looked this morning (birds-nest hair and crusted, kohl-smudged eyes), his pupils have that weird hangover-gleam and his cheeks are flushed a rather unflattering red.

To his relief, Chanyeol answers the door straight away. (Admittedly, he’s a little worried, he hadn’t seen either of Kyungsoo or Chanyeol since about ten o’clock last night, and neither of them replied to his texts). Greeted by an absolutely stunning grin, messed hair and no shirt, Baekhyun is one second away from curling up onto his toes to kiss the smile right off Chanyeol’s face… When he sees the bruises.

No. Not bruises. _Hickies._

Baekhyun’s stomach nose-dives. A jarring, awful thing that only solidifies when he walks into the room because _it smells like sex._ Chanyeol’s bed is a mess of sheets; Kyungsoo’s bed hasn’t even been slept in. Throwing out a lifeline to stop the sickening crawl of his throat because he _has to be_ wrong. Please let him be wrong. "Chanyeol, where's Soo?"

"He's, uh, gone," Chanyeol says, a hint of awkwardness in his voice and Baekhyun wants to throw up because Chanyeol and Kyungsoo have been comfortable with each other for months now.

 _They had sex. They had sex they had sex they had sex._ It’s all that is running through his mind right now – stampeding and trampling everything in its path, including the tentative curl of hope. "I'm gonna go."

"You just got here though," Chanyeol says oblivious, swinging his legs. "We can hang out?"

"Something just came up, sorry," Baekhyun lies, smiling a smile that feels like cracked glass. It’s enough to convince Chanyeol, who waves him goodbye and Baekhyun keeps a normal pace until he hits the quad. Then he runs.

Because _surely,_ surely, Kyungsoo knew.

 

 

 

 

 

It takes three hours for Kyungsoo to show at his door. Baekhyun scoffs when he hears the three measured knocks; ever the predictable little Soo. _Well,_ not anymore. Because he would’ve never have seen his straight-laced best friend sleeping with his crush. Never would’ve expected _this._

“Baekhyun. Open the door.”

Hugging a pillow, Baekhyun doesn’t move from his spot on the couch and neither does Mongryong. He hopes the resentment emanating from his body soaks through the door.

“I know you’re home.”

Baekhyun laughs inwardly – bitterly - at the almost hesitant words. It’s obvious that Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to deal with his anger. After all, the total number of times Baekhyun has been angry with him before – serious, real anger – is zero.

After twenty minutes of silence Baekhyun hears him leave. _Good,_ he thinks viciously.

But then the texts come.

 

_Sooshi | 12:34_

_I will explain._

_Sooshi | 12:40_

_It’s not what you think._

 

The rage that overtakes him is blinding. How could it be anything but? Baekhyun saw the evidence with his own eyes. Should he add _liar_ to the list of new things he’s learning about his ‘best friend’?

_Sooshi | 12:50_

_Baekhyun talk to me. Don’t do this._

Baekhyun doesn’t quite throw his phone at the wall but it’s close. It bounces off the couch to land face-up but he refuses to move, so sees the next text roll in anyway.

_Sooshi | 12:59_

_Baekhyun._

 

 

 

 

 

_Sooshi | 01:20_

_Baekhyun?_

 


	8. Aftermath Pt. II

 

At around two, Kyungsoo comes back from where-ever he disappeared to six hours ago. There’s a pause; long and uncomfortable as Kyungsoo sees the clean sheets Chanyeol’s holding, sees the window open to the widest it can go and smells the candles Chanyeol lit around the room.

Awkwardness burning in his gut, coupled with Kyungsoo’s wide-eyes, Chanyeol approaches like he would a startled horse. But because Chanyeol is an idiot, he panics and holds his hand out for a fist-bump.

This goes down about as well as anyone would expect. Kyungsoo continues to stare until Chanyeol’s grin turns even more pained and his arm starts to burn. He ends up knocking his knuckles gently into the shorter man’s shoulder before fleeing the room.

Chanyeol hides out in the foyer (which somehow can afford to have a piano?? Like??) _You idiot,_ he thinks, _just when you were becoming really good friends with Kyungsoo,_ _you had to get drunk and start thinking with your dick_. He groans, thunking his head down.

The accompanying thud of the piano is fitting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A week. A week is how long the silence between them stretches, with burning ears and avoided gazes, before Chanyeol decides _enough,_ and bursts into their room.

Kyungsoo startles, head jerking up from the place at his desk.

 _Like ripping off a band-aid,_ Chanyeol reminds himself. “I’m sorry, it was an accident, please stop being mad we slept together. I was really drunk and so were you, we didn’t know what we were doing. You don’t even have to worry because I’m not into you any more than being friends! You’re not my type. I mean not that there’s anything wrong with you, you’re great, nice hair and lips and stuff but I am just not attracted to you in that way. Not that you’re not attra-“ Chanyeol rambles as he drums his fingers against his thighs, unable to look at Kyungsoo until he’s interrupted.

“-Chanyeol it’s fine, please stop,” Kyungsoo says and it’s a little comforting to see that he’s red too. “We’re all good. Let’s just never talk about this again, chalk it up to a drunken mistake.”

Chanyeol nods a little too vigorously and smiles calmly, but inside he’s in screaming in relief.

Oh, _thank god._

* * *

 

At work Kyungsoo lets the guilt seep; staining the plates, his hands, the food. He had been genuinely happy that him and Chanyeol have sorted things but he doesn’t deserve it. Because Kyungsoo knows about Baekhyun’s feelings. Even though Kyungsoo had been so drunk he hadn’t even known it had been Chanyeol until he woke up, it doesn’t erase the fact he did it.

Regret and worry are all he feels; two weeks it has been now with complete radio silence. Baekhyun has never gone longer than two days without talking to him in some form before. Maybe if he can just talk to him once, and tell his story, Baekhyun will be okay again. Kyungsoo won’t ask for his forgiveness.

He catches the arm of the waiter as he enters the staffroom. “Jongdae, please could I borrow your phone for a minute?”


	9. Aftermath Pt. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three chapters in one day I'm on a roll. It's almost as if they're pre-written...

 

_Incoming call from Jongbae…_

“Love of your life Byun Baekhyun speaking.”

_“Baekhyun – ”_

Baekhyun hangs up. All the anger (at Kyungsoo, at Chanyeol, at _himself),_ all that conflict stirred because his hurt seems so _stupid,_ it’s not like they were even dating.  Emotions in an endless cycle that has been spinning around and around in his head. _Pathetic._

_Incoming call from Jongbae…_

For the first time, Baekhyun hesitates, thumb hovering over the answer button. Worrying his lip between his teeth. Because it’s been two weeks. Because being angry is so tiring. Because all things considered he misses Kyungsoo. He turns his phone towards big black eyes.

“What should I do?” he asks, but Mongryong just burrows his nose under the blanket across his lap.

_Yeah me too bud._

His finger moves to answer, but the call ends before he can.

_Missed call from Jongbae at 3:37pm_

Unfolding his legs from the couch, Baekhyun tracks socked feet through the house, wandering, phone burning a hole in his hand.

_Incoming call from Jongbae..._

Sighing a sharp breeze through his fringe, Baekhyun presses a finger to the green but stays silent, watching time tick on. There’s a pause on the other end too, loaded with feeling.

_“Baekhyun.”_

In one word, two weeks’ worth of worry are apparent and Baekhyun feels a drop of bitter satisfaction in that.

 _“Look, Baekhyun I’m sorry. I’m not asking for you to forgive me because I know that wouldn’t mean anything. I just wanted to tell you that Chanyeol and I were drunk, Baekhyun, so drunk that neither of us realised who we slept with until morning. Chanyeol doesn’t want me in that way, and I have no attraction for him either.”_ There’s a crackle as the phone is pulled away from his ear and a loud voice echoes, tinny in the background. _“Okay I’m going to go now, Jongdae’s yelling my ear off and I have to get back to work.”_ A beat of silence. _“Hey Baekhyun?”_ Another, followed by five words almost inaudible. _“It’s quiet without you around.”_

Baekhyun sits heavily against the bench. Claws skitter across the linoleum and he places his phone down beside him. Pulling Mongryong onto his lap and folding his body around the corgi, Baekhyun sighs with a cheek pressed to fur. Honestly, he doesn’t know how to feel. Despite the truth he heard in Kyungsoo’s words, and the relief that came with them, that doesn’t erase the past two weeks of anger and hurt and insecurity.

Accidents still hurt regardless of intent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of the next chapters will be longer, so from now on I'll only be posting one a week :3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Hi! 
> 
> Now that my brain doesn't feel like it's being pushed around in a blender, I've managed to upload on time this week! (If anyone was actually waiting for updates).
> 
> p.s. it's stinking hot here and I don't like it. someone come and cry with me about jongdae

 

When the wound isn’t as fresh anymore, Baekhyun finds himself standing back in front of room 1261.

It’s been nearly a month since he’s been back here, nearly a month since he’s seen either Chanyeol or Kyungsoo and Baekhyun is emotionally exhausted. Is over being angry and hurt and _alone._ And yet, he still hasn’t stepped inside. _Ugh, why is he like this._

After the fifth person stares at him oddly, Baekhyun finally lets himself into the room – after shooting the freshman a sneer, what’s so wrong about standing outside a door?

He closes the door behind him. Out of all the things he thought he’d feel, he didn't predict on feeling nothing at all. The room hasn’t changed, the bed is still just a bed. Nothing feels different (except maybe him). Even when Kyungsoo comes in ten minutes later to find Baekhyun at his desk, he’s taken off-guard by how okay he feels in that moment.

“Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo looks so young when he’s earnest and Baekhyun remembers that in fact, it’s him that is the senior.

Clasping his palms across his knees, Baekhyun looks directly at Kyungsoo. “I accept you told the truth and that you didn’t mean to, but I’m still going to be angry for a while.”

Quiet as his voice is, Kyungsoo nods. “When did you go that colour?”

“Last week,” Baekhyun replies, fiddling with the forelock of his newly dyed hair. It’s vibrant and chaotic and hard to miss; a rather fitting metaphor.

Soo seems to get it, and his lips seal.

Diplomacy has never been Baekhyun’s thing and he can be hurt still, just please let this awkwardness be gone. He leans back in the seat. “Anyway, what’s this I hear about a work function?”

Kyungsoo takes the olive branch for what it is, and that’s what they’re bickering about when Chanyeol walks in.

Baekhyun digs his nails into his palms.

He can deal with this.

 

* * *

 

 

Chanyeol shoulders his way into his room to find Baekhyun and Kyungsoo arguing good-naturedly. They don’t even appear to notice him at first. Placing his guitar on his bed, Chanyeol drinks in the sight of Baekhyun; bright red hair now, still as beautiful as he was all those weeks ago. Kyungsoo won’t tell Chanyeol what had transpired for Baekhyun to disappear for three weeks, but he knows it can’t be good. Anything that caused Kyungsoo to lose sleep couldn’t be.

Chanyeol clears his throat.

"Oh good, Chanyeol. Just who we were talking about." Baekhyun says, brightly but unless he’s mistaken, there’s a slight edge directed at Kyungsoo now.

Kyungsoo bristles. "Don’t do this.”

Baekhyun’s reply is unusually sharp. "I think you should let me have this."

"I know that you think you should, but are you sure this is a good idea? Is your request legitimate or is this just revenge on me?” Kyungsoo replies, all fight seeping out of his voice. Now he just looks tired and sad.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is aghast and his reply whip-sharp. _"Soo.”_

Chanyeol, confused, has had enough of them arguing like he isn’t there. "What is going on?"

"Kyungsoo has a work thing and has got a free plus one so I told him to invite you," Baekhyun says in a rush as if daring Kyungsoo to stop him. There’s something barbed in his voice.

“Are you not going?” Chanyeol asks Baekhyun, who isn’t fully meeting his eye.

“I’m already going with another one of his workmates.”

Okay, then _ouch._ That actually hurts a bit. “If you don’t want to me to go Kyungsoo, that’s okay.

Kyungsoo looks between them both. Must notice Chanyeol’s sudden quietness and whatever is in the stare Baekhyun is giving him because he gives in. “No, Chanyeol you can come.”

Baekhyun claps happily, and Chanyeol smiles. But oddly, Baekhyun doesn’t stay and edges out of the room, as quickly as he had come.

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol nervously straightens his shirt. It’s ridiculous maybe, the worry, but they’re Kyungsoo’s workmates and he wants to make a good impression.

“Calm, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo tells him, batting his hands away from fixing his jacket again. “It’s just drinks. Besides, you can’t make a worse first impression than Baekhyun did. Trust me on that.”

Somehow, those words soothe. Enough for Chanyeol to look around the restaurant as they walk inside and appreciate the dim lighting and warm wooden furniture. Kyungsoo leads him to the bar, where there’s three people standing already.

“Kyungsoo!” A very young teen greets, waving him over with a bracelet-covered wrist.

_That must be Tao._ At fifteen years old, he’s the restaurant’s current busboy and the baby of the group. ( _“Pretentious little shit”_ Baekhyun had also scoffed, but Chanyeol took that with a grain of salt because pot, kettle). From what Kyungsoo has said, Tao has adopted the staff as his older siblings and despite his somewhat daunting appearance, is often seen clinging to one of them.

Surprisingly, Kyungsoo lets himself be pulled into a rapid-fire conversation with the teen, which comes with the downside of leaving Chanyeol standing awkwardly alone.

“Hello, you must be Chanyeol,” comes a higher-pitched voice, and Chanyeol searches around before he realises, _look down idiot,_ and sees a small man holding his hand out, smiling.

Chanyeol’s first thought is _kitten_ and then, taking in the arm muscles, _on steroids._ Despite that, the man’s smile is sweet, and so is the roundness of his cheeks. Chanyeol kind of wants to squish them.

He mentally runs through the list Baekhyun had given him. “And you, must be Minseok,” Chanyeol replies, shaking the small hand, unable to stir any semblance of wariness.

(Baekhyun had warned that Minseok’s seemingly innocent cuteness was belied by a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude and the fact he could probably bench-press Chanyeol twice over without breaking a sweat. Chanyeol doesn’t see it(.

Big eyes get even bigger in surprise. “How’d you know?

“Baekhyun.”

_“Baekhyun,”_ Minseok repeats with a scowl, eyebrows sharpening and _now_ Chanyeol can see it. He looks a lot less young without the smile, a lot less cute. His features smooth almost immediately when another man appears at his side though, replaced with fondness. “Chanyeol, this is my boyfriend Luhan.”

Luhan is even more delicate than Baekhyun, and pale, with a barely-there chin. Simply said he’s _pretty_ , and there’s a wild sort of feel to him, jittery just underneath the surface. From what Baekhyun has said, he’s very sweet and gets along with _everyone._ Even Soo.

“So, what do you do Chanyeol?” Luhan asks, his hand curling around Minseok’s.

“I’m a second-year music student, and I work at the music store ‘Trainee’ two days a week.”

“That’s cool!” Luhan exclaims. “What do you play?”

“Piano, acoustic guitar, electric, bass, drums…” Chanyeol lists, counting down his fingers. “What do you guys do?”

Minseok looks impressed. “I’m working full-time as a barista at the moment. Sounds simple, but I’m enjoying myself.”

Chanyeol then looks expectedly at Luhan and his eagerness earns him a grin. (Luhan’s smile changes his face drastically. It’s not ugly, but it does break up his beauty into something less ethereal; more human).

“I dabble. Do you follow soccer by any chance?”

It’s Chanyeol’s turn to chuckle. “No sorry, and I definitely don’t play,” he explains, lifting his limbs. It’s been years since he attempted sport and for good reason. His legs don’t coordinate well at the best of times, let alone introducing a ball. (And other people).

Luhan actually pouts.

“Don’t mind him Chanyeol, he’s been trying and failing to get people to play with him for _ages_.”

He looks betrayed. “I told you Min, we can’t play with only two of us!”

Unapologetic, Minseok laughs at his boyfriend but sweetens it with a peck to his cheek. His eyes are curved into crescents, pushed up by the apples of his cheeks and Luhan doesn’t even try to look annoyed anymore. It’s cute.

“Who are you?” comes a boyish whine, and Chanyeol turns to see Tao staring at him with sharp, angular eyes.

Before Chanyeol can answer, Minseok chides Tao for interrupting and speaking informally. Tao apologizes and latches himself onto the couple. Luhan takes most of Tao’s weight but Minseok smiles at the teen to let him know he’s forgiven.

“Kyungsoo’s gone to the bathroom by the way,” Tao tells him in clumsy Korean, and Chanyeol smiles at him. The cool-guy act is just that then, and although he seems like a diva, he also seems sweet. At twenty-one, it’s not often Chanyeol feels old, but Tao is _six_ years younger than him.

Minseok and Luhan’s heads turn to the door in unison, which is cute, and Chanyeol follows their gaze.

Two new men approach, one tall and one short. The shorter man, Chanyeol assumes to be Junmyeon, judging by the friendly smile.

“Junmyeon! Yifan!” Tao cries, giving the name of the second man away, detaching himself from Luhan and jumping at them.

“Hi Chanyeol, it’s nice to meet you,” Junmyeon introduces himself when they get to the circle, Tao clinging to his side like a child. “I’m Junmyeon, Kyungsoo’s manager. And this is Yifan, my co-manager.”

Chanyeol returns the handshake, man’s hand small in his palm, feeling very much like he’s just stepped into a parent-teacher interview. Yifan inclines his head but doesn’t say anything.

Intimidated, Chanyeol settles for a simple nod back.

For one, Yifan's taller than Chanyeol, which is a rare occurrence and with the straight line of his mouth and dark eyebrows, he looks severe. Several piercings glint from his ears. He remains aloof and doesn’t speak, even when the conversation continues, just listens as sharp as the cut of his shirt. Unable to deal with people who don’t smile, Chanyeol freezes up every time he feels Yifan’s eyes on him.

The intimidation disappears in an instant, when further into the conversation Junmyeon makes a lame joke – seriously, not even Chanyeol laughs - and a sort-of hysterical hiccup laugh escapes Yifan’s mouth. Yifan snorts, and he looks so much kinder and younger, with his top lip baring his gums in an embarrassed smile. The others don’t even react, as if this is a normal occurrence and Junmyeon pats Yifan’s shoulder.

The tall man excuses himself and walks away, cool-looking as ever (but Chanyeol sees him walk into one of the tables).

“All good?” Kyungsoo asks, suddenly in his ear and Chanyeol leaps about a metre, involuntary landing in a defensive stance.

“For god’s sake Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol cries, rubbing his chest. Minseok is openly laughing at him, and Tao sniggers.

“Sorry,” Soo replies, but it’s so obviously a lie with his eyes twinkling like that.

The three glasses of water he had before coming (he was nervous okay), all catch up to him and Chanyeol excuses himself to go bathroom. Happy in his step because all this worry was for nothing, they seem like cool people.

Everything proceeds as normal, but as he’s washing his hands someone grabs a handful of his ass and _squeezes._ Expecting Baekhyun – because who else would he know here – Chanyeol whips around, but is instead greeted by a blond man with a dimpled cheek and somewhat lidded eyes.

And that’s how he meets Zhang Yixing.

Chanyeol finds out fairly soon that the man doesn’t speak very good Korean. As a man of hand gestures himself, Chanyeol manages to get Yixing’s gist; there’s a sharp intelligence behind that lamb-like exterior. Baekhyun spoke very highly of Yixing, with a hint of reverence even and Chanyeol can see why. When they get back to the bar, the others have moved, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind; their conversation is enjoyable even if it is limited.

But when Chanyeol stands up from tying his shoe to ask Yixing what it is exactly that he does, the man has disappeared completely. Floundering, because the bar is packed and _how is he going to find anyone now_ , Chanyeol eyes search the room. He spots Baekhyun a few tables away, bent arms holding him leaning against a table, talking to someone Chanyeol can’t see.

Baekhyun’s eyes flick to Chanyeol and he smiles, rectangular, but it’s different; weaker. There's something in his eyes and it’s not the shyness that Chanyeol glimpsed. No, it’s something more like wariness. Chanyeol doesn’t understand _why._

Someone moves into his space. “Well, fancy seeing you here.”

The name comes to him. Chanyeol narrowly stops himself from hitting himself in the forehead. “Jongdae.”

The vocal student grins, pointing his bottle towards Chanyeol’s chest. “Glad you finally remembered.”

Chanyeol rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I’d had a few to drink.”

Jongdae’s smile is bordering now on a smirk. “I’d noticed. But don’t worry, you more than made up for it.”

“How?” Chanyeol asks suspiciously, racking his brain because to be fair he was drunk and it was a month ago, but he doesn’t recall anything.

“You don’t remember do you?” Jongdae says to him, and his grin just keeps growing. Curled lips nearly stretch to his cheekbones.

By the sounds of that, it must be incriminating, and Chanyeol’s ears start to heat up. “Do you?” He shoots back.

Jongdae points to him with three fingers still wrapped around his bottle; hook, line and sinker. “ _I_ was sober.”

Chanyeol is still gaping when someone calls for them. “Jongdae! Chanyeol! Over here.”

They follow Junmyeon to a large booth in a nook near the middle of the room. The table is already laden with food. _How rich is this company?_ Jongdae shoves Chanyeol in beside Kyungsoo, when he takes too long looking for Baekhyun. When Baekhyun does appear, two minutes later, he slides neatly into the leftover seat without a word.

Junmyeon sighs, waving his hand. “Since I’m not going to get a decent conversation out of any of you until all this food is gone, eat now and talk later.”

Everyone descends onto the food in a way that would be simultaneously terrifying and _disgusting_ to him, if they weren’t all teenage guys and if Chanyeol hadn’t done the exact same thing.

A form of quiet descends over them as they eat. It’s not completely silent, but Chanyeol lets the banter washes over him, occasionally laughing at what’s thrown around the group, but for now content to watch. The atmosphere is so comfortable, it’s odd to think that some of these people haven’t known each other for more than two months. Or the fact that _he’s_ only known some of them for about an hour.

In a brief pause in his conversation with Yifan and the Tao glued to his elbow, Junmyeon smiles at Chanyeol from across the table. Baekhyun, on the other hand, had ended up on the end of the row; besides Minseok, who is very clearly giving him the cold shoulder.

Chanyeol leans over to Jongdae, because Kyungsoo is ignoring him for Yixing. "Hey Jongdae, what beef does Minseok have with Baekhyun?"

As if to emphasise his question, Minseok turns and stares Baekhyun down until the man relaxes into his seat with a pout.

Jongdae laughs. "Minseok is a very private person. When Baekhyun first met him and Luhan, he wouldn't stop asking intrusive and annoying questions about their sex life and bouncing around them. Minseok got so fed up that he threw Baekhyun over his shoulder, walked him outside and locked the door."

Chanyeol bursts into laughter, hitting the table and almost upsetting his glass. When he calms down enough to wave everyone’s concern away, he turns back to Jongdae. "I assume that's what Kyungsoo's comment to me about Baekhyun’s terrible first impression was about?”

"That, and after two minutes of being introduced to everyone, he and Tao got into an argument and he even managed to get _Junmyeon_ to swear. Kyungsoo very nearly killed him. But, it’s been two months, and everybody is roughly alright with him now.” Jongdae explains, accompanying his point with a wriggle of the fry he’s holding, which only really serves to drip ketchup on the table.

Chanyeol nods.

He finds Jongdae interesting as well. He was loud around the loud people and quiet around the quiet people, which wasn't too unusual, other than the fact it was a genuine part of his personality rather than a way to keep up.

After Yifan successfully defends his glass from a very unsubtle Tao, Junmyeon raps his knuckles against the table and announces all the table can hear. “Nobody let Tao or Jongdae drink, they're underage. If I see anyone do, you’re on rubbish duty for a month. Yes, that includes you Baekhyun.”

Tao grumbles under his breath but doesn't argue when Yifan frowns at him. Jongdae starts complaining, bursting into an impressive round of whinging that mainly consists of “ _that’s not fair,” “I’m super mature,”_ “ _Junmyeon why are you like this?_ ” and just “ _whyyyy,_ ” on repeat until he fizzles out.

(Chanyeol gapes. He’d thought Jongdae was the same age as him).

"Shall we order the babies’ some milk?" Baekhyun simpers mockingly, fully deserving the coaster that Jongdae throws at him.

Tao bites as well. "Fuck off Baekhyun.”

_"Fuck off Baekhyun,"_ Baekhyun mimics.

Making a move to stand, Tao opens his mouth but Yifan levels him with a stare, and he sits back down.

Junmyeon sighs with the air of someone who's had to deal with this many times. "Baekhyun must I remind you again, who the older one is between you?"

Smug, Tao sticks out his tongue but catches Yifan's frown and the hand that settles on his shoulder.

"Baekhyun behave. We don't need a repeat of last time."  Minseok says, and everyone turns to where Baekhyun was poised to throw a fry at Tao. Baekhyun’s mouth does a weird little dance, torn between smirking and pouting, but he does sit.

Chanyeol laughs under his breath at the display. They’re all young, no one older than twenty-three, but most of them reek of maturity, and it’s just odd to see a fight settled this way.

When the food is reduced to skeletons and wrappers (Tao had looked disgusted when he was given lemonade, but had been cut off with a “don’t complain unless you want to pay for it”), they all turn to Junmyeon.

Not part of the restaurant staff, so not part of the conversation, Chanyeol slumps slightly. Despite not working there either, Luhan is listening in, hand around Minseok’s shoulder. Baekhyun is looking down, playing with his lovely fingers.

Cheeky, Chanyeol stretches out his legs and traps Baekhyun’s foot between them. Baekhyun’s fingers pause, and his mouth does that weird flicker again. He meets Chanyeol’s eyes eventually, and a small smile does grace his face. Not one to tolerate losing, Baekhyun wriggles his foot out, and a somewhat furious foot battle ensues.

(Somehow the others don’t notice, Jongdae having swapped seats with him so they’re both at the end, but when Yixing looks at them, his eyes are sharp and focused).

Chanyeol’s legs win out in the end with their superior length, and they sit that way for the rest of the talk, Baekhyun’s slim shin resting between Chanyeol’s ankles. Chanyeol legs are warmed by the heat pressed to them, is warmed by the way red hair curls over a forehead and the way eyes sparkle under the overhead light.

He is in such a good mood as they wave goodnight to the others, that he nearly doesn’t notice Baekhyun disappearing without a word to him.

_Nearly._

 

 

 

 

 

_(It doesn’t take long to notice the new way Baekhyun acts around him. That aside from the counter-attack of Chanyeol’s footsie game, Baekhyun no longer initiates contact with him. It's not much maybe, but the casual closeness has disappeared. There is no more blushed cheeks, no more flirting into his space, no more hands on his skin. Chanyeol is confused, he thought the attraction was mutual?)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally if anyone was curious all that chanyeol couldn’t remember from the party was him going on about baekhyun for ten minutes straight


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this is just a little cute filler chapter before the next one. I just wanted to write more interaction between Jongdae and Chanyeol 
> 
> Enjoy :3

 

Jongdae flops, pillowing his head on Chanyeol’s stomach and blinking long eyelashes up at him. “Do my assessment for me?”

Chanyeol hums, thinking back to his first year. “Song-sheets?”

“Yes,” Jongdae groans.

“Then you’re on your own,” Chanyeol replies callously. Song-sheets has been, and will always be, the worst assessment of his life. He shudders.

“You suck,” Jongdae announces. With the pout, a wild head of curls and the gentle curve of his cheek, he actually looks his age for once.

“How can I suck? I’m letting you stay here aren’t I?”

“Only because Kyungsoo and Baekhyun aren’t here,” Jongdae says. (From his very privileged place now on Chanyeol’s thighs, Chanyeol would like to point out).

“Do you _want_ to go back to Jackson and his girlfriend?” Chanyeol asks, watching with satisfaction, the way Jongdae’s mouth works as he tries to come up with a retort. It’s not often anyone outwits Jongdae.

In the end, Jongdae gives up and sulks. “No.”

“Then shut up and stop implying I’m heartless. I enjoy your company, even though you whine too much.”

“Me?” Jongdae begins, voice laced and loud with offence, pointing an accusing finger up at him. “It’s _you_ who won’t stop going on about Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol’s focus turns away from the banter. It _is_ true that he has been talking about Baekhyun a lot, but he’s worried. It’s been a month since the company dinner and something is so obviously not right. Baekhyun has been stand-offish, and that’s where Chanyeol is getting caught up. Because something must be wrong if Baekhyun’s pretending to be okay, rather than saying what he feels outright.

Jongdae scrubs his hand over his face. “Oh my god. I’m not meant to say this or know this, but if I don’t, I don’t think you’ll ever get it - don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

Chanyeol does, but man can Jongdae’s tongue be sharp.

The younger boy sighs as if it’s painfully obvious. “Baekhyun has been avoiding you because he knows you and Kyungsoo slept together.”

_Oh._ No wonder Baekhyun was acting so strange, he must be feeling so many things; betrayal, confusion because Chanyeol had kept touching him like nothing had changed, and _how_ could Chanyeol have been so _oblivious?_

His voice is small. “What should I do?”

“Do I look like a relationship guru?! Just suck his dick or something – _Ow!”_ Jongdae says, yelping when Chanyeol pulls at his hair. “It was a joke you ass.” Glares curved eyes at him, but softens almost immediately. “I say talk to him. Because you don’t know if you don’t try and nothing hurts more than missing out and knowing it was your own damn fault.”

Although he shouldn’t be by now, Chanyeol is surprised by the wisdom in his words. “You’re an old soul Kim Jongdae.”

Jongdae detangles himself to sit propped against the headboard. “Well _someone_ between us has to have a brain.”

Chanyeol laughs. “That’s why we have Kyungsoo.”

“Why do we have Kyungsoo?” The man himself asks, letting himself into the room, followed by a pensive Baekhyun. After ditching his coat, he stands at the end of the bed, looking between them expectantly.

“No reason,” Chanyeol lies, at the same time as Jongdae says “obviously to get us child’s fare into the movies.”

Unsurprisingly, Jongdae ends up with a pillow squashed into his face.

“You’re a menace.” Chanyeol sighs, when they both sit up, having been knocked over as well.

“Yeah, but I’m forgiven aren’t I?” Jongdae says directing the question to Kyungsoo, moving to stand next to him. To Chanyeol’s shock, Kyungsoo smiles, and squishes a finger into the teen’s cheek.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol share a look at the unfairness of it, they would’ve been _punched_ for less. Their protests of “I call favouritism!” and “biased!” blend into one.

Kyungsoo shrugs as if saying _what are you gonna do about it_. “He’s the least annoying out of you three.”

Jongdae’s smile stretches across his face. It’s a sweet thing, but betrayal burns hotter. Ultimately he’s chased from the room, pelted by Chanyeol’s coloured pencils and one of Baekhyun’s shoes, but his merry laughter graces his exit.

United in the face of injustice, both Baekhyun and Chanyeol are pouting when a smiling Kyungsoo turns to look at them.

“Oh _,_ for _god’s sake_ you two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This may or may not be the image I based this whole chapter on](https://cheshiregrinsandkitteneyes.tumblr.com/image/165240168490)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chanyeol rambles when he's nervous pass it on)

 

_Several months later_

 

Chanyeol excuses himself, quickly shuffling his way through the small gap of their row, muttering apologies, his long legs and large frame knocking against the chairs in front.

Baekhyun bounces his knee nervously, turning in his seat to watch him disappear out of the back of the auditorium. “Hurry hurry,” he mutters under his breath, using the program in his hand to fan himself.

_“And now for the graduates of the 2010 Culinary Arts degree.”_

Baekhyun worries his lip till he tastes the sting of blood; Jongdae’s hand coming down on his knee to stop the bouncing. The fingers not holding his phone up cuts crescents into his palms.

_He’s going to miss it._

Baekhyun’s chest feels tight watching Kyungsoo climb the steps when his name gets called; looking decent in a black suit with his hair slicked up nicely.

But there’s a commotion below stage as Kyungsoo shakes the President of the University’s hand, and Baekhyun gapes along with the rest of the crowd as a hooded figure sprints onto the stage and towards them.

Kyungsoo, now bright red, is left holding a gigantic bouquet of flowers as well as his degree, the perpetrator disappearing faster than the security can keep up with. Finding his feet and the acres of politeness engrained into him, Kyungsoo bows, making his way off the stage and back to his seat. ( _He’s going to be furious)_.

The confused murmurs of the crowd die down before the next person is called up and the rest of the ceremony passes without incident. It’s boring now that Kyungsoo has been and gone. Luckily there aren’t many people after him and ten minutes later, the ceremony is called to an end. The auditorium becomes a teeming mass of noise, shoes echoing on the wooden floors as people rush to find their friend, their child, their partner.

Kyungsoo was seated with the other graduates on the ground floor and he disappears from view as the three climb down from their own seats.

Baekhyun bounces as he tries to find his equally vertically-challenged friend. Taller than most, Chanyeol merely cranes his head to look around. Oddly, it’s actually Jongdae that spots Kyungsoo first through the thinning crowd, half an hour after the ceremony ended, hugging his parents' goodbye.

“Kyungsoo!” Jongdae calls, easily the loudest of the three of them. Breaks through the crowd to hug him tightly and say a few words, before hurrying off to an exam, pointing Baekhyun and Chanyeol out before he goes.

Baekhyun turns to Chanyeol. “Rather odd, that whole hooded figure thing, wasn’t it?”

Easy, eyes crinkling, Chanyeol replies, “I agree, who do you reckon it was?”

“No idea,” Baekhyun lies. In the corner of his eye, he can see Kyungsoo is next to him now. “Oh hey, Soo! Congratulations – Ow _ow hey!_ I don’t know why you’re hitting _me_. I didn’t do it!”

Kyungsoo turns to Chanyeol instead. It must make a funny sight to all those who walk past, the tall man cowering as the shorter man beats him with flowers.

A muffled yelp escapes Chanyeol’s mouth. “Baekhyun masterminded it!”

“Betrayal!” Baekhyun cries as Kyungsoo renews his hitting, this time at both of them, dislodging petals and sheets of cellophane; making a scene in revenge for making a scene.

There’s a massive grin on his face though, and when he pauses for breath, Chanyeol and Baekhyun squish him between them in a massive hug. Kyungsoo just laughs when they pull away, straightening his mortarboard. (Somehow most of the flowers hanging off his left arm are still intact).

“Congratulations Kyungsoo!” comes from two new voices and they all turn to see Junmyeon and Yifan approach.

Junmyeon steps back once he hugs Kyungsoo, a little awkward. Yifan has no such qualms, keeping a giant arm gentle around Kyungsoo’s shoulders when he pulls back.

Kyungsoo looks nothing but sweet. “Thank you, both for coming.”

They both smile.

“Of course,” Junmyeon says kindly.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Yifan says, the rare-to-show smile gracing his face as he looks down at his dongsaeng. He goes to say something else, but his phone beeps and he frowns when he reads it. “Sorry Kyungsoo, I have to go, work wants me back in.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrow. “I thought you took the day off?”

“I did,” Yifan sighs, face and voice tired until he sees Kyungsoo’s facial expression contort. He squeezes his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry about it Kyungsoo, I’m sure it’ll be important. Enjoy your day and I’ll see you soon.”

“Well I better go with him,” Junmyeon says with a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder as they watch Yifan stride off. He smiles. “We’re all very proud of you Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo bows.

Despite most of his friends’ sudden departures, Kyungsoo’s face is shining. Baekhyun has never seen Kyungsoo’s smile so big, joy stripping his stoniness away. It’s a good look on him, the black gown falling off his elbows and opening to show his suit, the mortarboard sitting tilted black on his hair, the degree in one hand and flowers in the other.

Baekhyun can’t define the weight of the proudness that settled in his chest when Kyungsoo got his degree, the utter delight in seeing his friend cross the stage in his regalia. (Chanyeol must feel the same, judging by the little sniffles Baekhyun heard).

“Do you guys want to go do something?”

(They would’ve agreed regardless, but it’s something about the happy curve of Kyungsoo’s eyes that have Chanyeol and Baekhyun nodding in less than a second).

They all walk out of the auditorium together, side by side by side, all touching – all connecting - to prepare for their afternoon out. Today Kyungsoo’s laugh is plentiful, holding his mortarboard to his head, Baekhyun is grinning at his best friend, and Chanyeol is smiling too with eyes a little glassy.

 

 

 

 

“Chanyeol are you _crying?”_

* * *

 

They settle under a tree that dips its branches low.

Eyes a little tender from his brief stint of proud tears, Chanyeol throws himself down on the picnic blanket, shucking his shoes off. Baekhyun is quiet and cross-legged, running his hands through blades of grass beside him. Kyungsoo is ignoring them both for his book.

Crunching down satisfyingly on the last of an apple, he leans back on his arms as he looks across the park.

Bright green trees and uniform rows of coloured flowers stretch out untouched in front of him. It’s a warm, peaceful day, and the fruit he’s been swiping from the cute little wicker basket is tangy and sweet with juice that runs down his fingers. It’s serene; aside from a girl playing with her kite a hundred metres away, they’re one of the only people here. Chanyeol knows that in this they’re lucky; that if they were here outside of school hours or in summer, there would be hundreds of people here.

It’s a rather sedate (and sober) way to spend ones’ first moments free from University, but that’s just Kyungsoo for you.

Deciding to leave him be, Chanyeol claps his hands against his knees and turns to Baekhyun. “You want to go for a walk?”

Baekhyun nods. He strokes a finger across Kyungsoo’s foot to get his attention. “Chanyeol and I are going for a walk.

Chanyeol unfolds himself from the ground and Baekhyun clears his jeans free of grass, and they set off side by side.

But his hands flutter. The silence stretches on but it’s not an ordinary one, this feels tremulous; preparatory. Maybe that's Chanyeol's fault though - because this walk isn’t just to shake out the sleep from his limbs.

Months have passed since the night of his showcase and since Jongdae gave him advice but Chanyeol still hasn’t had a chance to talk to Baekhyun _._ They’re good friends again now but Chanyeol doesn’t do secrecy, it sits against his skin like an ill-fitting tux. He wants to talk about it.

But the decision to say something still settles odd in his stomach, nervousness, bubbling until his hands move jerky and he has to clear his throat a few times.

Baekhyun must feel the edge in the air too because he slows into a stop beside a section of rain-dampened grass-turned-mud.

For a moment there's nothing but a sharp gust of breeze. (Somehow the sight of Baekhyun's little frown as he tries to flatten his hair spurs Chanyeol on and he clears his throat). "Baek."

Finally, Baekhyun looks at him.

"I know you know that Soo and I had sex," Chanyeol starts, surprising a pause between his next words because _what._ "And you probably already know this but it was just a drunken mistake. I like _you_ Baekhyun. Quite a bit honestly, for ages, probably since you brought Mongryong over. So yeah," he finishes lamely.

Baekhyun whirls back from where he’d started to pace during Chanyeol’s words, emotions dancing across his face to settle on frustration. “You couldn’t have told me this earlier?” He bursts like the words were ripped from him. “I spent so long thinking that you didn’t want me! Why did you keep this yourself!?”

Chanyeol’s meekness turns indignant in a second. “Well, it’s not like you said anything either! I -”

He freezes in the middle of his sentence, Baekhyun’s hand dirty with the same mud that is now decorating Chanyeol’s shirt.

"Oh yeah?" Chanyeol exclaims loudly, marching over and grabbing his own handful and Baekhyun gasps at the sudden cold when it splatters across his neck, lips parted prettily.

They both just stare at each other, a silent stand-off but Chanyeol sees as soon as Baekhyun starts to crouch and _oh, it's on._

For a few minutes they are completely immersed; Baekhyun's face contorting in shock as mud splatters up his thigh, retaliating by stuffing it down Chanyeol's shirt. Chanyeol ducks and dodges, each burst of cold against his body like a shock. Their impromptu fight screeches to a halt when he hits Baekhyun in the face.

"Nice aim you giant oaf." Baekhyun intones, uses his ring finger to drag the mud away from his eyes, leaving a streak stretching out to his ear. "Don't worry you softy, I'm fine," he adds when he catches Chanyeol's expression.

Chanyeol relaxes, but shifts, because now that they’ve stopped, he’s uncomfortable. The drying mud feels disgusting, sitting thick and gritty against his skin, hardened in places, and also, “do you like _me?”_

“Of course I do, you dumb lamppost.”

Chanyeol doesn’t try to stop the smile breaking across his face, but Baekhyun breaks the moment by dumping a handful of mud on his head, mushing it into his hair. (At this rate he’s going to be washing dirt off himself for weeks). But Baekhyun laughs, high and giddy, looking up at him with shining eyes, and Chanyeol can't help it.

He grabs Baekhyun's dirty face between his even muddier hands and, overcome, kisses him.

Baekhyun's hand slide into his hair (which is only really going to cake the mud in further) but his eyes are shining and Chanyeol kisses him again; once, twice, thrice. Sweetly, with a hint of mud.

When he pulls away, Baekhyun is bashful, dropping back onto the balls of his feet and pressing his face into Chanyeol's shirt. Chanyeol thumbs the smaller man’s cheek, accidentally swiping a streak of mud across the bone. Baekhyun in return rests his hand against Chanyeol's jumping pulse. Impulsively, Chanyeol arms go tight around him, chin resting on top of Baekhyun's head, who nuzzles into his arms, shy again.

"We should probably head back,” Chanyeol says against brown hair. And a bit quieter, “I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

Baekhyun hums. The park is even more beautiful than it was half an hour ago, footsteps clicking music against the cobblestones, the sun dappling the leaves, flower heads dotting the grass. Their hands find each other, fingers lacing.

"Date me?"

"Of course,” Baekhyun replies, bumping his shoulder against Chanyeol’s arm.

Kyungsoo is where they left him, on his back now with one arm under his head. The other, holding up his book, is in place a great deal further through than where he was when they left him. With a freaky sixth sense, he sits up before they get to him.

"What the hell did you two get up to?" Kyungsoo asks, looking aghast at the dirtied state of their clothes and faces. Then his eyes flick to their joined hands, and he sits up straighter. "And when did this happen?"

Baekhyun and Chanyeol share a look.

Soo figures it out and he scrambles back, “don’t you _dare!”_

It’s in vain - he’s too slow - and they lunge at him, rolling them all over in a mess, covering him with the mud that they can, until a shout rips from his throat. Kyungsoo gives up then, laughing, now with camouflage stripes against his shirt and face. Baekhyun’s lips quirk at the shining of Kyungsoo’s cheeks and with an overwhelming sense of fondness, Chanyeol pulls them both to him.

They all lay in the park until the sun starts to shift, Baekhyun on Kyungsoo’s left with his leg thrown over, Chanyeol on his right, arm stretching behind.

Kyungsoo clears his throat at ten to five, arms lying crossed over his chest. “There’s a graduation party tonight.” His fingers tap against his stomach, chin tilted back as he looks at the sky. “I’d be interested in going, but I understand if you two wouldn’t want to.”

Chanyeol’s eyes and hand meet Baekhyun’s, slowly, “I wouldn’t mind.”

 

 

 

_(They end up going. It’s fun, with a sober but giggly Jongdae and a happy Kyungsoo who doesn’t stop smiling. Chanyeol doesn’t leave Baekhyun’s side the whole night; trades alcohol for kisses that taste much better._

_Wakes up fully-clothed with a bright-eyed Baekhyun that laughs at the Jongdae groaning about his sore back and a murderous-looking Kyungsoo with a headache._

_It feels better too)._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the first half of this fic. Instead of a storyline to follow, the second half will be more like short vignettes. Lots of different scenarios that time-skip and that detail moments in their life (some that were briefly mentioned in the other two fics).


	13. Chapter 13

 

When the knock comes at his door, Baekhyun almost throws it open. (It’s not as if Chanyeol is late – in fact he’s five minutes early - but Baekhyun has been waiting for this all day).

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Baekhyun replies equally as soft, a beat later, appraising the way Chanyeol’s navy blazer makes his torso stretch even longer. There’s a single red rose in his left hand.

Baekhyun’s toes curl in his converse because _that,_ that is a big part of the reason Baekhyun likes Chanyeol so much. In this day and age, flowers aren’t a common gift anymore - let alone between two dudes - but for Chanyeol’s endless generosity and kindness, that sort of thing doesn’t matter. (Baekhyun will never admit out loud how much he likes it).

His pause must hold too long because Chanyeol’s smile wavers and no, _no,_ that won’t do.

Baekhyun plucks the rose from Chanyeol’s drooping hand before he can hide it behind his back; stroking a finger down the velvet petals. “You may as well marry me now,” He offers, trying for nonchalant but his stomach is all wobbly and his hands tremor. Perhaps the blush at his cheeks is obvious because Chanyeol’s smile is back.

Big, wide, _gorgeous._

Baekhyun retreats into his house to place the flower in a mug of water – he’s in his early twenties and lives alone he doesn’t have _a vase okay_ – and also to hide from the curl of his stomach. (It’s not like Baekhyun’s shy. Rather shameless actually but Chanyeol makes his heart flutter stupid; in a way most of his previous boyfriends have failed to).

Chanyeol, who stayed in the doorway, looks up when Baekhyun returns; fiddling with one of the gold buttons on his half-sleeve. “You ready?”

Baekhyun looks away from the muscles shifting in his boyfriend’s forearms. “Yup.”

They walk along the street in easy conversation; about Chanyeol’s classes, his shifts at the music store, Mongryong, and what Baekhyun does in his spare time. The fading sky of purple, yellow and pink sits gently against the dark of Chanyeol’s hair and the curve of his cheek. The streetlights too love Chanyeol’s skin, washing him golden. _How can someone so big look so sweet?_

Baekhyun lets their hands tangle as he moves a little closer. “You never told me where we were going,” he says, interrupting Chanyeol’s story of him and Jongdae pranking the musical-practice rooms to only play one song on repeat.

“I’ve actually never been there before, the reservations were made for me,” Chanyeol admits.

Dinner then. Somewhat fancy Baekhyun assumes. Which would’ve been helpful to know earlier when Baekhyun had spent an hour deciding what to wear (Jongdae had been of no benefit either: _“Baekhyun it doesn’t matter, he’ll get to see you naked soon enough anyway,”_ then _“owww! Why does everyone keep doing this to me?”_ a second later when Baekhyun had pulled at his hair.)

It doesn’t take them long to arrive at the restaurant but it’s dark when they do. The inside of ‘Black Pearl’ is warm, dressed in white and crystal but Baekhyun doesn’t care much to keep looking. His boyfriend is much more interesting - Chanyeol leans forward slightly to give his name which stretches out his back deliciously. ( _Holy shit,_ _Baekhyun can’t wait to be under him)._

The stern-looking maître d sets them slightly out of the way of the main grouping of tables, trying for a smile, Baekhyun supposes, if that’s what the uncomfortable twitch in her lipstick-caked lips meant.

Baekhyun, who thrives in uncomfortable situations, smiles back with all his teeth. (If anyone else was with him, he would’ve gotten a kick in the shin or a whispered reprimand, but Chanyeol just sniggers).

Fingers tapping against the mahogany, Baekhyun peers nosily around the room as they wait for the waiter to appear. It soon becomes clear that they’re under-dressed. They’re not dressed badly – Chanyeol in his blazer and pressed pants and Baekhyun in a black silk button-up – but they’re leagues below the three-piece suits all the other male diners are wearing. The women are all in cocktail dresses. Baekhyun idly reckons that the diamond necklaces they’re wearing are probably real.

The quiet of the restaurant is also deliberate; hushed murmurs and the occasional clink of silver cutlery. Chanyeol and Baekhyun, whose idea of quiet is arguing over video games, are very ill-suited to this place indeed. (And although Baekhyun does admire pretty things, three-metres for a dripping diamond chandelier is admittedly a _bit_ much).

Chanyeol almost trips on his way back from the bathroom, foot catching on the swirled carpet. By now the two of them have garnered a fair amount of stares; people already staring when they walked in and now even more, at the laugh Chanyeol huffs out as he sits down. (Baekhyun stares at them all until they look away; not letting them embarrass his boyfriend. These people make the room stuffy with their smoke and mirrors and never fully saying what they mean anyway).

Luckily, they’re saved by the approach of their waiter; who is decidedly not Korean, tall with a manicured moustache. “Good evening. Here are your menus sirs.”

It’s a hard-fought battle, but Baekhyun manages to make it until Fredrico walks away before he starts laughing. “He looked so disapproving,” he gasps, putting on an imitation of their waiter’s voice complete with a mock-shudder, “Young queers stinking up the place – what next? Working class? Thugs? _Homeless people?_ Oh, _how_ the mighty fall.”

Chanyeol thumps the table so hard as he laughs that the silverware rattles, and earning him a sharp _“ssh!”_

Baekhyun’s lips quirk and Fredrico comes back to catch the tail-end of him wiggling his eyebrows at Chanyeol. Their waiter only gets _more_ scandalised, lines across his forehead deepening when Chanyeol and Baekhyun order only two mains between them – “this is a _four-course restaurant”_ – and Baekhyun asks for _one_ glass of their _cheapest_ wine.

“Poor Fredrico is probably going to cry,” Baekhyun mutters to Chanyeol as their waiter walks stiff-backed to the kitchen.

“That’s on you,” Chanyeol grins, tapping his knee against Baekhyun’s. “Did you really have to butcher the pronunciation of the meal _that_ badly?”

“Hey, at least I didn’t order _water,_ ” Baekhyun counters because Fredrico’s forehead vein had _throbbed_ when Chanyeol had asked.

“Touché.”

The glass of wine that arrives from their waiter – not Fredrico, Baekhyun notes – is large and red, filled almost the way to the top. (By the end of which, Baekhyun is affected enough to slide his foot up Chanyeol’s thigh, which earns him a glare from the lady at a neighbouring table).

“Who recommended this place by the way?” Baekhyun asks, slurping around his “ _fettuccine alfredo_ _sir_ ,” as Fredrico had corrected with gritted teeth after Baekhyun had said “that pasta one,” for the fifth time.

His friend from the table over, the lady with the big hair, glares at him again. He grimaces back with a full, open mouth, and she looks away with a gasp, disgusted.

“Junmyeon and Tao suggested it.”

Baekhyun screws his nose up. “So you’re taking advice from _Tao_ now?”

“Junmyeon agreed! I thought it would be okay,” Chanyeol defends himself, bottom lip protruding in a way that could only be described as a pout.

Their darling waiter sweeps by their table again to ask how their meals are.

“Totally awesome dude,” Baekhyun says just to fuck with him and Fredrico’s answering smile is more of a grimace.

When Fredrico moves onto the next table, Chanyeol leans forward with a little smirk and _damn,_ Baekhyun is hooked already. “What do you say we ditch before he comes back?”

Baekhyun is so so on board.

As Chanyeol scans the restaurant, Baekhyun lays his fork neatly across the plate, leaving his napkin scrunched beside his empty wine glass. He shifts into a crouching sort of sit.

“Okay…” Chanyeol says, placing a wad of cash down. “Go.”

Quickly, before Fredrico returns, they run-walk towards the exit, Baekhyun swaying his hips more than necessary just to get Chanyeol to let out another loud laugh that startles the already-staring diners.

When they get out into the autumn air, Baekhyun bursts into a run. Chanyeol’s laughter follows him, then overtakes him as longer legs win out. At the end of the street they stop, out of breath. (Unsurprisingly, no one had called out or chased after them).

“Sorry, that sucked,” Chanyeol says casually, unembarrassed, puffing out his cheeks.

“I’m all good,” Baekhyun admits, linking their hands together. There’s a convenience store up ahead. “Ice-cream?”

Under the fluorescent lights, their hands stay connected as they rummage through the cabinet. Baekhyun picks strawberry. Chanyeol the boring sod, gets _vanilla._

“Yeah well, next time I’ll get cucumber then,” Chanyeol counters when Baekhyun tells him so, bumping their shoulders together. (And has to right Baekhyun hurriedly with his free hand when he stumbles).

They stop at a park near Baekhyun’s house, winding their way through the trees to sit at a bench shadowed by a streetlamp.

Baekhyun swings his legs. It’s cold, and the motion does little to warm his bones. He grimaces but Chanyeol looks so happy, still finishing his ice-cream, that he doesn’t say anything. (So happy, that Baekhyun can’t bring himself to tell him he’s got it all over his face). Instead, Baekhyun just wipes his finger across Chanyeol’s cheek and sucks it into his mouth. _Sweet._ Thumbs across his forehead – _how on earth_ – and then across Chanyeol’s bottom lip which earns Baekhyun a sharp, sucked-in breath.

Before he can make it anymore, a sudden vengeful gust of wind sweeps through the park, biting through his shirt like paper and freezing his face. Baekhyun shudders, tucking himself into Chanyeol’s side. “Whose _idea_ was this?”

“Yours, you muppet,” Chanyeol replies but throws his arm around Baekhyun anyway.

They admit defeat when the temperature drops even further, and their skin becomes completely goose-bumped. The walk back is quiet, and quick, Baekhyun shuddering too much to try for conversation. It’s not unpleasant, however. Chanyeol’s presence beside him is more than enough.

“Hey Yeol?” Baekhyun says when they reach his door. “Despite everything, I really did have a good time tonight.”

Chanyeol ducks his head to hide his grin, palming the back of his head like he’s embarrassed.

With a rush of emotion, Baekhyun pulls Chanyeol against him so his back is pressed to the door, kissing him fiercely.

To his displeasure, Chanyeol pulls back and instead of continuing down his neck, presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Not tonight Baek. I want to do this properly.”

Baekhyun pouts, but it’s hard to stay angry when Chanyeol bends to drop a kiss to his scrunched-up nose.

“I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun says a little bit petulantly, but plays nice, and is rewarded with another peck to the lips, his boyfriend waving as he skips down the steps.

Mongryong runs to him when Baekhyun lets himself in and he cuddles the corgi to him as he slides down the door. His heart is skipping little beats in his chest, flipping over itself. He’s had dates thousands of times fancier that have failed to elicit anything near. _Damnit._

His phone beeps.

 

_Yoda <3 | 09:56_

_Goodnight Baek x_

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun is still smiling when he goes to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well okay, here you have the chapter that is the sole reason why this fic has a mature rating. literally, this chapter is essentially just smut. Not very good smut, but i wrestled with this for a few hours before i decided to just leave it. (i think my smut scenes get more explicit everytime i write one and i don't know how to feel about that).
> 
> anyway enjoy! :3
> 
> (p.s. someone cry with me about the teasers - Jongdae and Suho's were my favourite - and also the horrid feeling of seeing all the Elyxion videos and living in another country)
> 
> (p.p.s also who needs capital letters amirite)

 

It has been three weeks. Three weeks of texting and chatting and dates fit in whenever they’re both not working and Chanyeol isn’t at University. Three weeks in which, aside from holding his hand, _Chanyeol has barely touched him._

Baekhyun has had enough. He’s been trying to elicit a reaction for the past fourteen days. Has been working extra hard today especially, dropping hints the entirety of their bowling date; wearing a choker and a low-hanging shirt to accentuate his collarbones, feathering unnecessary touches whenever the opportunity presents itself – a hand across the thigh, perching in Chanyeol’s lap briefly before he gets up

And he is _this_ close to growling. Because it has achieved exactly nothing. (Other than a final, underwhelming score of 50 while Chanyeol grinned at his own score, twisting a hand around his bowling glove).

“You coming in?” Baekhyun asks when they arrive at his house, looking up from under his eyelashes. “Because I’m free and I could use a gaming buddy,” he lies, with absolutely no _intention_ of actually playing League of Legends.

“Sure!” Chanyeol says excitedly, head bobbing with a grin on his face. (A grin that turns to confusion when Baekhyun bypasses his study completely to pull Chanyeol further down the hall. He still leans into the kiss though).

Baekhyun pulls back from the lazily exchanged kiss with his hands clinging tight to Chanyeol’s neck. “Consider me wooed. Now hurry up and fuck me.

Large eyes pull back to search his face, but must see the determination there, because Chanyeol groans helplessly and re-connects their lips.

“Finally,” Baekhyun mutters against Chanyeol’s mouth, hand searching for the handle to push his bedroom door open.

Shoulders hunched as he bends to his boyfriend’s height, Chanyeol shuffles them inside, cradling Baekhyun’s face in his hands as he explores his mouth. Pressing himself closer so their shirts blend together, Baekhyun grins sharp-toothed, before pulling Chanyeol’s lip between his teeth.

Chanyeol’s breath stutters but it’s Baekhyun’s turn to gasp when large hands travel down to pull him impossibly closer by his ass. Those deliciously big hands go next to the hem of his shirt to tug gently, and Baekhyun lifts his arms. Their mouths part with a lewd noise, and when Baekhyun’s head pops free, he holds Chanyeol still with his eyes and a splayed hand.

The teeth of his zipper pulls loud in the quiet, and Chanyeol’s eyes are dark with want as Baekhyun’s legs are slowly bared. Teasingly, he wriggles his hips, and pays for it by Chanyeol grabbing him roughly as soon as his feet step out of them.

Baekhyun is thrown onto the bed, but excitement must have clouded Chanyeol too much because his push is off and Baekhyun almost bounces right off. He waves off Chanyeol’s worried glance, stroking himself, nibbling at his bottom lip, arousal singing through his body. He wasn’t expecting Chanyeol to manhandle him (and he wasn’t expecting to like it so much).

Chanyeol’s red hair sticks up at all angles after the hurried removal of his own shirt, and Baekhyun can’t help but be endeared and aroused at the same time. _He wants to know if those abs taste as good as they look._

Baekhyun beckons him. Chanyeol shuffles eagerly to the crook of his finger, chuckling embarrassedly when he trips over his discarded jeans. He crawls up Baekhyun’s body, who is immediately overwhelmed. Baekhyun has always loved their size difference, but with Chanyeol spread over him now, chest to feet. Well, his dick twitches.

Hands expand across his ribs. Piano fingers trace the skin there, pulled taut over bones. Usually gentle touches make Baekhyun bite, but he’s too distracted by the teeth at his sensitive neck.

But Baekhyun is impatient. Shameless. "Come on Yeol, fuck me already."

"Busy," Chanyeol replies, taking the offered skin of his neck between his teeth and worrying it until Baekhyun has to fight back a wrecked moan.

But Baekhyun won’t go down without a fight. He fights his way free with a pinch to Chanyeol’s nipple – who enjoys it, going by the gargled sound he makes – and pushes Chanyeol to lay flat beneath him. He’s gorgeous, chest heaving, spread out with messy hair and a grin; trusting Baekhyun to do whatever he wants to do.

Placated, Baekhyun sucks him down in one go. Chanyeol works a gentle hand into his hair; groans when Baekhyun starts to bob up and down. Baekhyun hollows his cheeks, pulling up to lick at the head, just to get Chanyeol’s hand to tighten. He’s loud, Baekhyun notes. _He wants to hear more._ With vigour, and a hand on himself, Baekhyun goes at it with all the experience he’s got. Call him a slut, but he’s always loved having a dick in his mouth. The heady weight, the hands in his hair, the cries above him. It’s a different kind of power trip, and it never fails to make him aroused.

Baekhyun will deny the little noise he makes when Chanyeol pulls him back, panting.

“You’re too good at that.”

Baekhyun preens. His eyeliner must be smudged to hell, mouth covered in saliva and the remnants of what he's just been doing, but Chanyeol groans at the sight of him. That’s enough for Baekhyun to scramble up to kiss Chanyeol, hard. Chanyeol’s arms go around him in response, squeezing gently. He sighs when Chanyeol sucks on his tongue.

Baekhyun pushes Chanyeol back, leaning off the bed to grab the lube and a condom from the side drawer. Chanyeol’s hands anchor to the back of his thighs, and the warmth bleeds from his palms spread through Baekhyun’s body. Impatient, Baekhyun rolls back over, slicks up his fingers, spilling a little lube onto the sheets.

"Watch," he demands as he eases a finger into himself.

Chanyeol listens, sitting back against the headboard with dark eyes that don't move, but hands that do, grabby, stroking up his thighs, a finger dipping down to 'help.' Baekhyun makes a sound low in his throat at the intrusion. Chanyeol's fingers are bigger than his.

With strong hands, Chanyeol re-arranges Baekhyun so his thighs spread open over Chanyeol’s legs. The angle means his fingers go deeper, and his groan rumbles his chest. Baekhyun gently arches into the hand on his back, and Chanyeol leans forward to nibble at Baekhyun’s exposed throat above his choker.

He snaps. _He had wanted Chanyeol in him three weeks ago, he wants Chanyeol in him now._ Baekhyun loops an arm around Chanyeol’s neck, the other going to position Chanyeol where he wants him. He sinks down, slow, and it’s a little painful, but it doesn’t bother him.

Chanyeol’s head droops forward when he bottoms out and when Baekhyun deeming himself ready to start slowly circling his hips.  "Oh, fuck me," He groans.

"Maybe next time," Baekhyun says, teasing, but Chanyeol's head jolts up.

His eyes are blown back. "You'd fuck me?"

Baekhyun tightens around Chanyeol instinctively at the thought and they both groan. "If you want, do you usually like to switch?"

"When I can, most people just want me to top though."

_As if Chanyeol couldn't be any more perfect._

"Well," Baekhyun laughs through another moan, Chanyeol grazing his prostate. "That can be arranged."

Baekhyun starts bouncing in earnest then, using his thighs to lift him up and drop him down, and that’s the end of the talking. Chanyeol’s hands flutter his body, stroking his back, cradling his face, to massage his ass briefly. Baekhyun feels those gentle touches like brands, fire-hot and thrumming deep inside his chest. Eventually Chanyeol’s hands settle at the divot of his waist to assist his movement, large fingers spanning from back to front and it makes Baekhyun even hotter.

“Harder Yeol,” he demands, and Chanyeol complies, hands tightening.

Chanyeol is eager to please he finds out, obeying Baekhyun’s commands perfectly. Angling his head to keep their mouths connected. It’s messy, and Chanyeol knocks his lamp off the side-table when his leg jerks, but good. So so good.

Baekhyun has always been a little selfish, tilting his hips so Chanyeol hits his prostate every time, chasing his own release. Sweat is dripping down his forehead, snaking down his chest, pooling in the small of his back. He’s feverish, legs aching, heat boiling under his skin but Baekhyun keeps going, can’t stop and when Chanyeol’s hand comes down to stroke him, grip a little hard, Baekhyun loses it.

Chanyeol rocks his hips through Baekhyun's orgasm and when the wave of pleasures fade, Baekhyun rewards him by clenching every time he bears down. Oversensitive almost to the point of pain, Baekhyun grits his teeth, "come on Yeol," he urges.

Baekhyun doesn’t know where the impulse comes from, but when Chanyeol throws his head back, thrusting in earnest, he leans forward as much as he can bouncing uncontrollably as he is and bites Chanyeol’s shoulder, hard.

With a strangled cry, Chanyeol comes.

Baekhyun pulls back, appraising the imprint of teeth against tanned skin, already purpling. “You into pain then?” He asks, a little teasing in his voice despite the breathlessness.

“No,” Chanyeol huffs, with a little laugh. “I did like you bossing me around though,” he admits.

Baekhyun files that away for later, grimacing as he lifts himself off, hole fluttering empty. Too lazy and boneless to attempt a trip to the bathroom just yet, he grabs a pack of tissues from his beside cabinet. They clean themselves up, Baekhyun directing Chanyeol where to chuck the rubbish.

There’s an awkward pause after they pull their boxers back on – Chanyeol’s have cute little ducks on them – and Baekhyun can’t fathom why.

Until Chanyeol says, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Baekhyun grabs his arm. “Yeol, when did I ever ask you to leave? _Stay_.” He says hurriedly, fear in his throat, heart lying suddenly bare amongst the mess of bedsheets.

Chanyeol’s face changes to happy in an instant and he dives at Baekhyun, pressing him into a hug.

“Jeez Yeol,” Baekhyun says, silently thankful that everything is okay. “I’m your boyfriend, I wasn’t going to kick you out.”

“It’s happened before.”

Chanyeol’s tone is matter-of-fact, said against Baekhyun’s bare chest but Baekhyun’s grip tightens around Chanyeol’s neck. He’d been slightly snide before but hearing that people would actually do something like that to Chanyeol fills him with anger.

They lay there for what feels like half an hour, rage seeping out of him until that’s left is a soft flow of contentment. Baekhyun plays with the red of Chanyeol’s hair, lazily looping the strands through his fingers and letting them go, Chanyeol’s cheek pressed into his chest. Baekhyun’s never been one for post-sex cuddles, but there’s something about Chanyeol that makes him challenge all his views it seems.

On a rotation of his neck to stretch it out, Baekhyun catches sight of the clock. _11:24,_ it blinks in ugly red letters.

He swats at his boyfriend’s side. “Come on Yeol, up.”

Shoving his large sleeping shirt on, he drags Chanyeol into the bathroom so they can brush their teeth, their sides brushing. Chanyeol sits on the edge of the bath as Baekhyun wipes his face.

Baekhyun pulls off his choker and chucks it on top of his dresser. He crosses the room to flick off the light, and runs the two metres to his bed, giggling when he jumps. Somehow, he misses landing on Chanyeol and satisfied, he wriggles under the covers.

It’s like all the tired he’d been holding back crashes down onto him when his head touches the pillow. He flexes his toes against Chanyeol’s shins, yawning. “How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t mind.”

In that case… Baekhyun shuffles himself forward like a fish, situating himself into Chanyeol’s arms. He sighs contently, making himself comfortable.

Chanyeol smiles against the top of his head. “Goodnight Baekhyun.”

“Goodnight.”

 

 

 

 

 

Then… “Hey Yeol, what do you think they’ll be serving at the University cafeteria tomorrow?”

Baekhyun doesn’t know where the thought had come from, or the implication he was going to have breakfast with Chanyeol, but is mollified when his boyfriend laughs. “I don’t know Baekhyun, but I do have an early-ish start, so goodnight.”

Baekhyun shuffles. “Goodnight.”

 

 

 

 

 

Five minutes pass. “Do you think it will be spaghetti?”

_“Baekhyun.”_

He giggles. “Okay, okay. Goodnight.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes, pressing his nose into Chanyeol’s chest. He slips into sleep easily and when he wakes up to Chanyeol’s bird-nest hair and wide grin, he can surmise that it’s the best night of sleep he’s had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest single p.o.v chapter so far. I don’t know whether to be ashamed or not.


	15. sometimes people hurt you without meaning to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler chapter and a not too happy one if i'm honest. It's also the third chapter in a row that's in Baekhyun's point of view, so sorry about that.
> 
> Enjoy :3

 

It’s early December and Yifan is gone.

Flown to China without a goodbye, leaving them alone in the midst of a giant legal battle.

For Baekhyun, who didn’t know Yifan as well as the others did and doesn’t work with them, is somewhat relieved that Yifan has finally escaped the racism of the restaurant’s owners. (God knows that Baekhyun has seen how badly his Chinese friends have been treated over the years). Something he’s sure the others will come to realise eventually.

Still, that’s not now.

Fingers tapping at his phone screen, Baekhyun hits send and looks up; chewing at his thumbnail. He’s with them all now, and it’s quite honestly awful. Because Jongdae is sombre and Chanyeol quiet. Yixing isn’t humming, Minseok isn’t smiling and Junmyeon has shut himself in his office. Kyungsoo is biting his nails; a habit he curbed in sixth grade.

(Baekhyun doesn’t have any mothering instinct in him whatsoever, but this is bad enough that it makes him want to do something).

His phone beeps. Baekhyun’s let-out breath ruffles his fringe. _Bless you, Taeyeon._

He claps his hands together loudly, making everyone jump. The papers on Jongdae’s lap slide to the floor. “We are going out,” Baekhyun announces, holding a finger up to stop Minseok’s protest. “I know you guys need to do this, I do, but you need a break. It’ll only be for a couple of hours.”

Nobody says anything. They all look so tired, lacklustre evident in their eyes.

Surprisingly enough it’s Yixing that agrees first. “I think that’s a good idea,” he says slowly, stretching his arms up. He looks around the room. “There is still time to prepare cases and if we try and force ourselves through all these documents, it won’t be our best work.”

With Yixing on board, the others soon agree.

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as they arrive at the bar-café-nightclub fusion ‘Diamond Crystal,’ everyone splits in separate directions.

Baekhyun sighs.

(It’s only going to make his job harder).

After stopping by the bar, he finds Taeyeon first, easily, where she’s holding court with her girls.

“Baekhyun!” She shouts when she catches sight of him, hopping off her seat to hug him. She squeezes him and he looks over her head to share a look with Tiffany. Tiffany’s eye-roll answers any question he had about Taeyeon’s sobriety.

Taeyeon is Baekhyun’s ex (a messy time during his high-school years before he admitted that yes, he was gay and no, a cool older girlfriend wouldn’t change that), and is very up-and-down with her opinion of him. “Thanks for this Taeyeon.”

“No problem,” she replies, letting him go and skipping back to her seat. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that she is four years his senior.

With that done, Baekhyun searches the room to find his friends - minus Junmyeon, who didn’t show. He’s not usually the mediator; the caretaker. He’s ill-suited to the job, usually showing he cares through physical contact and snide comments. But they’re his friends godammit, and he’d be a bad one if he didn’t at least attempt to cheer them up.

Being before twelve, Diamond Crystal is still in ‘bar form,’ and the lights are only dimmed slightly, so he can see easily enough. The downside is that there are a lot of people around, and Baekhyun is not known for his height.

He sees Luhan first, head bent towards Minseok, brown and blond mixing together.

Luhan looks weary but nonetheless inclines his head and points to a corner of the room over Minseok’s shoulder. Baekhyun nods back and leaves the two alone for now. If they’re together, they’ll be okay.

Baekhyun heads towards his own boyfriend, who’s camped out on a stool at a two-person table. He starts briefly when Baekhyun’s hands slide over his shoulders. “Relax it’s just me. How are you?”

“Baek, I’m all good,” Chanyeol says, scribbling something on a bit of paper, sparing a smile.

Baekhyun accepts the kiss to kiss temple, and for now, the lie too.

Chanyeol had come to idolise Yifan in the months they knew each other, which undoubtedly means those are song lyrics he’s writing. Baekhyun doesn’t expect them to be happy - Chanyeol is by far the most sensitive out of them. There are two empty beer bottles at Chanyeol’s side and his attention has returned to his paper so Baekhyun kisses the top of his boyfriend’s head – something he doesn’t seem to even notice – and goes to find someone else.

If Chanyeol was hard to find in plain sight, then Kyungsoo is near impossible. Baekhyun only finds him by luck, tucked away small behind a pillar. (Soo always did have a penchant for making himself look as unassuming as possible). Baekhyun slides in next to him, throws an arm over his shoulders.

Kyungsoo would never admit it, but Baekhyun knows he’s struggling. Knows that Soo carries his phone a little closer to his chest, sees the disappointment in his hooded eyes when no messages have come through. Yifan had doted on Kyungsoo in a way that belied the age gap of less than four years and that had Jongdae whining - “you can’t have favourites hyung, it’s not fair” - and in return, Soo had _adored_ Yifan.

“I am alright,” Soo says unprompted, after ten minutes of silence. “I get why he did it. I really do. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being angry or hurt for a while.”

Baekhyun, not expecting an explanation or even words, looks to his feet to see four empty bottles. _Ah._ He sits there for another minute, before getting to his feet. Kyungsoo prefers dealing with his emotions alone.

Oddly enough, or perhaps not odd at all, Yixing is in the foyer at the piano.

Baekhyun didn’t think that was allowed but slides himself onto the gap on the stool. Considering he’s the only Chinese person left – Sooman ‘let Tao go’ in November, and Luhan didn’t work with them – Yixing has been one of the calmest about it.

Yixing doesn’t seem surprised to see Baekhyun there, fingers tinkling over the keys. “Baekhyun-ah, things happen for a reason. Yifan had to go, and him and I will see each other again I’m sure of it. But thank you for caring.”

Baekhyun, who hasn’t quite gotten over the hero-worship, colours at the warm words. When he leaves to check on the others, a twinkling melody following him out. He smiles.

Luhan has gone home by the looks of it and Baekhyun hovers around the edge of Minseok’s space for five minutes, unsure how to approach. Him and Minseok aren’t close at all.

Baekhyun’s subtlety is not nearly as good as he thinks it is because Minseok turns and greets him with a smile before he can close the final metre. “I know what you’re doing Baekhyun, but I’m okay. I think I saw Jongdae by the couches before.”

Baekhyun, a little shocked at the first ever genuine smile Minseok had graced him, nods and walks off. He sees Minseok turn back to his phone, a small smile playing at his lips.

  
When Baekhyun finds him, Jongdae is looking intently into the distance, eyes shining.

Baekhyun recognises that look. That’s how he looks at Chanyeol, and how Chanyeol looks at him. With love.

_Jongdae, you minx, you’ve been hiding out on us._

Baekhyun steps behind him, trying to find the direction of his friend’s gaze. And at first, Baekhyun thinks he’s looking at the pretty girl he performed with recently for a showcase, but then he gets closer; more in line with Jongdae’s line of sight.

_Oh, Jongdae._

Pity welling up in his chest, Baekhyun leaps the couch and squeezes Jongdae into the tightest hug yet, knocking over the empty bottles at his feet.

Jongdae turns his head to him, eyes slightly unfocused. "I'm not complaining, but what is this for?"

"You love him, don't you?"

Jongdae doesn’t deny it. “Fat lot of good it does me,” he says, twisting the ring on his pointer finger. “He’s in a relationship, and I’m not going to come in between that. As if I’d want to.” He angrily scrubs his hands across his face, and his next words are uncharacteristically bitter. “ _As if I could_.”

And what can Baekhyun say? Minseok is happily dating Luhan and there’s nothing he can do to fix this, or to ease the hurt.

 

“It just won’t go away.” Jongdae sounds so _tired,_ and Baekhyun pulls the younger man closer to his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It seems like some of them have lost more than just Yifan.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, this chapter is after they win the legal battle that allows Junmyeon into the possession of his three companies. Originally, this wasn't meant to be a chapter at all but my sister told me I needed something in between the last chapter and the next one, so here it is. Don't get your hopes up though, it's only a filler and a bit of a vague word vomit to boot.
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway :3

 

They walk out of the courthouse cheering.

_They won._

Their testimonies and their months of hard work paid off and they won they won they _won!_

(Not for nothing though; Minseok had to dredge up everything ‘SM’ had ever said about his weight, Yixing about being treated like he was worth less than dirt on a shoe, and Junmyeon having to speak on behalf of not just himself but Yifan as well).

(For now, they’re just happy it’s over).

Junmyeon’s smile from where he is under Yixing’s arm is massive, and everyone is so so proud of him. Kyungsoo’s tiny grin is tucked into his scarf, but Chanyeol knows it’s there. Wound up in each other, Minseok and Luhan trail behind the rest of their ragtag group. Shouting, Jongdae skips down the first few steps, before missing the fourth and almost tumbling right onto his face. Everyone halts mid-whoop, as they painstakingly wait for him to right himself. When he does, Baekhyun skips ahead to link their arms (and to take the last few steps slow).

Chanyeol himself is kind of muted. He’s more relieved than anything; too emotionally drained right now to be ecstatic. Still, the others more than make up for it, and it won’t be long before he gets that shiny feeling of _winning_. He can’t help but get hopeful the more distance they put between themselves and the courthouse. It’s only early morning, but the weak warmth of the burgeoning day seems like a promise. That’s it’s only going to get better from here.

“Let’s go for lunch!” Minseok suggests, in a shout that’s loud for him, and everyone turns to see a full-blown smile.

They cheer.

“My shout!” Junmyeon shouts, and another round of cheers ring around their group.

Kyungsoo picks the restaurant, and they file out into an outdoor seating area that looks out into a massive garden. Baekhyun picks a flower and sticks it pink and soft-petaled behind his ear. Jongdae gets one too, in pale yellow.

The large umbrella above their head is red-and-green. Chanyeol almost breaks it trying to adjust the shade to include Yixing. Minseok bats his hand away and takes over, leaving Chanyeol to sit back down with nothing to show but imprints of the wood along the line of his hips.

Pouting, he turns his attention to Baekhyun. Who - after getting flower-rejected by Kyungsoo - is now rearranging the sugar bowl so that all the individual packets have their own section.

In a dazzling show of maturity, Chanyeol waits until Baekhyun turns to answer Luhan’s question before he messes them all out of order. Holds back a smile with his bottom lip behind his teeth at the outraged look Baekhyun’s face twists into when he sees all his hard work undone. Laughs when Baekhyun turns to him, realising just who’d done it.

Junmyeon clears his throat, and Baekhyun settles for a kick to Chanyeol’s ankle. (Immediately soothed by the way their legs tangle together).

“As you guys know I’m going to be taking over as owner for the restaurant. It will be closing for two weeks while renovations are being made – there _will_ be compensation,” he says, holding a hand up before anybody protests. “I will be making plenty of changes no doubt, but staffing-wise I see no need to make any. I also want to thank you all. You helped, stepped up even though you didn’t have to - especially considering people older than us all have walked away. So thank you. I’d also thought I’d let you know that my first order of business as owner will be to ask Yixing to step up as manager.”

Applause rings around the group and Baekhyun even stands up, clinking his fork against the glass almost too hard. Yixing is smiling right up to the blond of his hair, dimples on full-show and hands curled into the sleeves of his sweater.

Before anyone can get too loud (Jongdae) or get them kicked out (Baekhyun), they’re interrupted by the arrival of the food. Everyone is quiet in the brief chaos of trying to match up the orders to the right person.

They get there eventually, and it’s impossible not to relax in the mix of good company and good food. Kyungsoo colours when they all compliment him on choice of restaurant. Minseok reaches out with the hand that isn’t in Luhan’s to cradle the nape of an introspective Jongdae’s neck. Junmyeon is smiling at whatever Yixing is gesticulating about. With a cheek bulged full of food, Baekhyun leans over to say something to Luhan that has him giggling. Chanyeol pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo of them all, wanting to remember this moment right now.

Eventually, their peaceful bubble has to break. It’s Junmyeon who does it, standing with a sigh. Apparently, they want him to do an interview for the paper.

Baekhyun’s grin is a little evil. “Aw, our little Jun Jun is gonna be famous!”

“Famous!” Jongdae choruses cheekily, somehow avoiding the same glare that Minseok levelled at Baekhyun.

Now used to the terror that is both Baekhyun and Jongdae, Junmyeon doesn’t even acknowledge the teasing, lifting his coat over his arm and wishing them all a Merry Christmas before he heads off with Yixing.

 _He really is a good person_ , Chanyeol muses. Awkward maybe but he tries hard.

With their leader gone, and (last-minute) Christmas shopping that has to be done, it’s not long before they all make their leave too. All of them split in different directions: Luhan; Minseok and Jongdae; Kyungsoo. Chanyeol tucks Baekhyun against his side as they walk towards where he left the car. (Where he _thinks_ he left the car).

“Have a good Christmas!” comes Kyungsoo’s shout at them. A spot of loud in the respective quiet.

“You too!” Chanyeol yells back because he can, and is joined by another cacophony of shouts.

Baekhyun laughs, mouth going boxy, and Chanyeol joins him. Presses a warm kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head as they walk together to go home.

 

 

 

 

_(When they do, Chanyeol looks at the photo he took; a selfie for Instagram, him pulling the peace sign while the others in the background are mainly unaware. Yixing is the only one looking, smiling with a peep of his tongue._

_He captions it ‘Victorious.’)_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my favourite chapters in this fic, but it's honestly a mess. It's set six months after the last one and is just a compilation of moments during a week in which Baekhyun is injured. Domestic fluff that I was too lazy to write properly.
> 
> I'm hurrying to post this before work so let me notice if there are any typos.
> 
> Enjoy :3
> 
> (GUESS WHO PREORDERED THE WINTER ALBUM)
> 
> (Plus, Electric Kiss is a BOP)

 

Chanyeol sighs as Baekhyun noses his way under his chin and into his lap again, the chair creaking alarmingly as he accommodates the added weight.

“You know I have work to do right?” He asks as Baekhyun bats his hand away from reaching for his papers, but amusement colours his voice. It’s cute.

“Mm,” Baekhyun mumbles.

Chanyeol takes that to mean _meh,_ but smiles and pushes away the work, trying to avoid hitting Baekhyun’s slinged arm.

The broken bones are courtesy of a brief (and now discontinued) gym membership; an attempt to ‘bond more’ with Jongdae. In a turn of events neither men will elaborate on, Baekhyun had somehow managed to drop a stack of weights onto his wrist and hand, leading to Chanyeol getting a call from a highly amused (but concerned) Jongdae at eleven in the morning.

Baekhyun is warm, weight comfortable, but after ten minutes Chanyeol starts to get restless. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy spending more time with his boyfriend – far from it – but Chanyeol spends certain days of work at home for just that; Baekhyun is a terror when bored.

 

* * *

 

Fucking it out of him only works briefly he finds, a few days into Baekhyun’s home-rest.

Baekhyun comes sleepily, stuttering over Chanyeol’s name, broken wrist held against his opposite shoulder. After gently cleaning them up Chanyeol leaves Baekhyun there, naked, sated and eyes still drooped in pleasure.

Not even an hour later Baekhyun comes into the study claiming that he’s hungry.

_Terror._

But Chanyeol can’t resist Baekhyun’s pout any more than he can resist any of him, so drags himself out of the office chair. Baekhyun traipses behind him into the kitchen where he will be no help. Whatsoever. (He’s an awful cook). Chanyeol hip-checks him out, delegating him to warm the bar stool.

Baekhyun pouts until he gets a kiss. The sweetness of which is worth the sharp pain of the island counter digging into his stomach.

But again, it only sates him for five minutes and then Baekhyun starts to play around with the ingredients, moving them out of Chanyeol’s reach.

Chanyeol double-checks the pot won’t boil over and pitches his voice low, walking around to stand tall beside Baekhyun’s seat. “You know what you could do for me?”

Insatiable as he is, Baekhyun immediately perks up. “Yeah?”

“…Vacuum the bedroom?” Chanyeol asks, sweetening the betrayal with a kiss to Baekhyun’s hair. “Please?”

Baekhyun groans. “I’ve been busy all day Yeol.”

“Tell me ‘busy’ doesn’t mean playing League of Legends one-handed, and I’ll let you off the hook.”

Baekhyun’s mouth does a wriggle, like it can’t decide what to settle on, but Chanyeol knows a held-back smile when he sees one.

 

* * *

 

Despite medical compensation, the money isn’t enough to cover the hours that Baekhyun is missing. So Chanyeol has picked up more work until his boyfriend’s cast comes off and he’s allowed back. He’s not bothered by it, it’s not Baekhyun’s fault, but going from eight-hour days to twelve-hour days is exhausting.

So, when Baekhyun trails out of their room, rubbing his eyes, and asking what’s for dinner, Chanyeol replies, “whatever you want.”

The sleepiness disappears in an instant, replaced by an eagle-eyed scrutiny. “ _Anything_ I want?”

Chanyeol’s voice is tired. “Anything.”

Because there are moments when Chanyeol just doesn’t want to make decisions. Doesn’t want to have to deal with choice and responsibility, and is perfectly content to follow orders. It’s hard to explain, and it’s not often he gets like this.

But in the months they’ve been together, Baekhyun has seen it enough to know what to do. And Baekhyun enjoys it, doesn’t mind being boss and getting Chanyeol to do whatever he wants because he knows it’s because Chanyeol trusts him too. And it’s not always sexual, no, it could just as much be about being told to clean the bathroom as it could be coming undone with a hand pressing gently to his throat.

“You know what?” Baekhyun says after a once-over. “I’m not that hungry. Let’s just go to bed.”

“It’s eight-thirty.” Chanyeol protests weakly, already swaying with the thought.

Baekhyun’s smile is wicked. “I didn’t say sleep.”

But when they get to their room, the way Baekhyun undresses him is anything but sexual, helping Chanyeol’s limbs into his pyjamas and tucking them into bed.

“Thank you Baekhyun,” Chanyeol mumbles, tired pulling the absolute truth from his mouth, dragging out the syllables, eyes fighting the battle to stay open.

Baekhyun yawns in his face.

"You're a pain in the ass you know that," Chanyeol half-lies, but folds Baekhyun tighter in his arms anyway.

 

* * *

 

A week after the accident, Baekhyun gets his sling off, and thereon decides he’s capable to do everything by himself. He walks out of their room, looking so happy that he managed to do up his shirt that Chanyeol can’t bear to tell him he’s buttoned it all wrong.

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol’s stomach rumbles, and the weightless feeling in his legs tell him that it’s been a few hours since he last ate. He’s just contemplating if getting food outweighs the effort of actually moving when there’s a shout, then a crash.

An acrid smell makes Chanyeol wrinkle his nose but the once-over he gives Baekhyun when he reaches the kitchen reassures him that his boyfriend is fine. Baekhyun _is_ frowning though, tapping the detailed wolf Kyungsoo had drawn onto his cast yesterday morning.

When he sees Chanyeol, he spreads his arms out. “No! Don’t come closer!”

He almost sounds panicked, a red blush sitting high on his cheekbones. Unluckily for his boyfriend, Chanyeol is inherently curious (and can easily see over Baekhyun’s shoulder).

A charred lump of _something_ sticks to the bottom of one pot, explaining the smell, another pan upended in the sink which explains the crash. There’s a pot of water bubbling uselessly on the stove, and ingredients scattered all over the counter. Something with a consistency of milk drips methodically onto the floor.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Baekhyun had been trying to do, and despite the mess, Chanyeol is endeared, pressing forward to kiss Baekhyun against the bench, deep and slow.

“Could you at least wait until I’m gone to do that?” A voice deadpans from the couch, but Jongdae’s eyes sparkle with mirth, cat-mouth pulled up into a wry grin.

“How long have you been in my house?” Chanyeol’s question is mock-sharp, almost accusatory but his smile negates the tinge of any offence he could’ve caused.

“Two hours.” Jongdae retaliates.

Chanyeol huffs. _You win this one Jongdae._

“Baek you go talk to him, I’ll clean this up,” He says into his boyfriend’s hair, pushing him towards Jongdae.

Baekhyun protests, but Chanyeol shoos him out. In the end, he goes, watching Jongdae play Xbox with only a small frown that he can’t join in. Mongryong hops into his lap and falls asleep despite Baekhyun trying to jostle Jongdae enough to make him lose his game.

Chanyeol watches them with a smile, wiping up the mess, throwing out the ruined pot. Makes a small note in his head to buy a new one, makes use of the boiled water to make them all some ramen. He hums as he cooks, enjoying himself, especially with the soundtrack of Jongdae and Baekhyun in front of him, and the background music of the game explosions.

It doesn’t take long, and Chanyeol places the bowls in front of the two, joining them on the couch. It’s quiet while they eat, and Jongdae challenges him to a game as soon as they finish. Chanyeol spares one look for his study, and all the work piled up on his desk. Thinks of all he’s gotten done and says yes without feeling too guilty.

It’s a good way to spend the afternoon, Jongdae yelling at him and the TV, Chanyeol occasionally swearing as he mashes buttons, the warm weight of Baekhyun sitting between his legs and cheering them on.

 

* * *

 

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

“Baekhyun.”

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

He tries again, but louder. _“Baekhyun.”_

The pen stops, and Chanyeol breathes in relief. The repetitiveness of the noise had been boggling his mind silly.

Baekhyun smiles innocently at him from the other side of the room, from under round black frames with light glinting off the lenses. “What did you want Yeol?”

Chanyeol isn’t fooled. He fixes his boyfriend with a frustrated look. “Baek, I’m trying to do work.”

“Sorry.”

Chanyeol smiles his thanks and turns back to his desk. His chin sinks onto his palm as he reads over the rosters.

His mind has just started to delve back into the effort of organising workers when _tap._ _Tap tap, tap tap._

_“Baek.”_

His boyfriend’s smile is sharp-toothed and cheeky.

And okay, maybe Chanyeol could put his headphones on, but despite his love for it, he gets too distracted by music to concentrate. “I love you, but please shut up.”

Baekhyun gives him a sailor’s salute. “Noted.” But the  _tap_ a second after his reply contradicts any apology in his words.

Chanyeol is done. “You do that one more time Byun Baekhyun I _swear to god.”_

A few seconds of silence pass. Then _tap._

With a roar Chanyeol leaps up, leaving behind a trail of unfinished papers behind him as he chases his boyfriend out of the room. Baekhyun is faster, but there aren’t many places to hide and Chanyeol corners him in the kitchen. They’re both breathing hard.

Chanyeol closes the gap between them, towering and there’s actually a hint of fear in Baekhyun’s eyes. (There’s a conversation there; a year down the track when they’ve peeled back all the layers between them, the talk of a certain boyfriend who didn’t take to well to Baekhyun’s mischievousness). So Chanyeol smiles because he’s honestly not mad, gathering up his tiny tiny boyfriend in his arms and spinning them around.

Baekhyun goes willingly over his shoulder and to the lounge, where Chanyeol offloads him onto the couch. Laughs as Chanyeol presses large slobbery kisses over his face, his neck, and whatever other bits of skin not covered by Baekhyun’s (Chanyeol’s) giant hoodie, shyly batting him away with his good hand.

Chanyeol slowly lets his weight sink on top of Baekhyun, head dropping to rest on his boyfriend’s chest. He nuzzles into the gentle hand carding through his hair, feeling Baekhyun scratch at his scalp.

“Didn’t want to you overwork yourself.” The voice is quiet, almost as if it wasn’t to be said.

Chanyeol pulls back and up. And yeah, maybe Chanyeol tends to fall too hard too fast, but looking at Baekhyun looking at him with a smile – and curved droopy eyes – Chanyeol can easily picture being with this man for the rest of his life.


	18. Chapter 18

 

The car is silent. Tense. Chanyeol hasn’t tried to speak after the first time Baekhyun snubbed him, and his boyfriend’s warmth beside him is almost cruel _._ Backlit by the streetlamps, there’s a red shadow on Chanyeol’s cheek where a girl had pressed her lips. Baekhyun can’t get the image out of his head. Of Chanyeol with four girls hanging off him, brushing their tits against him and petting his biceps and laughing – and Chanyeol _not pushing them away_. (Bitter crawls into his throat).

They walk on eggshells into the house. With a slow hand, Chanyeol flicks the switch, and light illuminates the room. Reveals a phone number scrawled up his arm where he pulled his sleeve up, in writing that is not Baekhyun’s.

Something within Baekhyun breaks with the fragility of a glass bottle. And the hollowness turns to anger. What were you _playing_ at?”

“What?”

In that instant, something ugly rears its head and Baekhyun absolutely _hates_ the confused look on Chanyeol’s face. He scoffs. His simmering anger boils. “Letting those girls hang off you like you were famous. As if they knew your music or something. How embarrassing.”

The same part of Baekhyun that knows how to make words cut deep, takes pleasure in the utter _hurt_ on Chanyeol’s face. The other part of him is horrified. But he can’t stop the vitriol pouring from his mouth. (He’s not a good person like Chanyeol thinks he is). “And maybe you should give one of those girls a call yeah? Or maybe the guy – he seems more your type,” Baekhyun spits. “Though I suppose you weren’t drunk enough to sleep with him when your boyfriend was there. Though if you’d had any alcohol, maybe that wouldn’t have stopped you!”

He’s shouting now and still Chanyeol hasn’t said anything, staring hard at the ground. Fury unparalleled by anything Baekhyun has felt before courses through him. And with the sense of a carriage hurtling down a ravine, Baekhyun grabs and hurls the nearest thing at Chanyeol that he can.

It bounces harmlessly off Chanyeol’s chest when he makes no move to catch it. Only when Chanyeol picks it up and smooths out the fur does Baekhyun sees what it was. It’s the bear Chanyeol won him at a carnival before they started dating.

The blinding rage settles as fast as it flared, and Baekhyun is left with gritty eyes and shaking hands.

Chanyeol still won’t look at him.

Baekhyun chokes out something that could pass for a laugh if there was any humour in the situation. “Don’t follow me,” he says.

And walks out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cold air saps any fight left in him, and by the end of his walk, he’s shaking. Full-body tremors that aren’t just due to his thin clothes and no jacket. Their conversation replays in his head.

But it’s only when Kyungsoo opens the door, that Baekhyun realises what he’s just done.

“Baekhyun? _Baekhyun!_ ” Kyungsoo exclaims when Baekhyun collapses into his arms; eyes brimming with tears that bleed over slightly.

When Kyungsoo has shuffled them inside, Baekhyun looks up to see his friend looking at him worriedly, eyes wide behind his glasses. Usually, he’d make some witty jab about Soo looking like an owl, but he’s too tired. (Hollow and drained like someone has taken a metal shovel and scooped out his insides).

“Bed.” Kyungsoo urges, gentle.

The long list of people that have ever called Kyungsoo apathetic can go fuck themselves because he makes Baekhyun a hot chocolate and lets him share his bed. Lets Baekhyun's story tumble out with words wrung in regret with no prompting. Lets Baekhyun fall asleep - with tears rimming his eyes - to soft humming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive me


	19. Chapter 19

 

_“Oh, you thought I loved you?” Chanyeol says with a high laugh that doesn’t sound like him. “Poor poor Baekhyunnie. I drained your usefulness dry.”_

_Another laugh joins him, musical; water trickling over rocks. The girl from earlier._

_But instead of the bar, they’re together on his and Chanyeol’s bed. Laughing. Kissing._ Naked.

* * *

 

In the morning Baekhyun’s eyes open slowly, with none of the panic he had in the middle of the night waking from his dream. Rolling over, he faces an empty bed, covers pulled as taut as they can with his body in the way.

Last night, Kyungsoo’s back rising and falling with soft breaths had been a comfort. Not enough to ease Baekhyun into more than broken sleep, but enough to calm his heart rate and the hands crunched around the duvet in front of his chest.  (The image of Chanyeol touching someone else so reverently, hurts. Real or no).

Baekhyun sighs, rubbing grit and tears from his eyes. He swings his legs off the bed and heads into the kitchen where Kyungsoo is at the bench, nursing a coffee.

His best friend hands Baekhyun a cup wordlessly. “What are you going to do?”

Baekhyun sips his coffee so he doesn’t have to answer and pulls a face. It’s far too sweet. But then he sighs, running his finger over the yellow detail on the mug. Kyungsoo _is_ right. “I guess I’ll talk to him.”

Kyungsoo stands. “It’s not my place to say, but think about it this way Baekhyun. Has Chanyeol ever gotten angry, sad or jealous when you flirt with other guys? Has he ever been afraid that you’ll do something more?”

With the floor pulled right from under his feet, and mouth gaping wide Baekhyun is glad when Kyungsoo bows his head and excuses himself to the shower. It means he doesn’t have to answer.

The words had stung yes, but it wasn’t an accusation for several reasons - one of which because what Kyungsoo had said was _true._ Baekhyun does flirt with other guys at parties, harmless little chats that mean fuck all because he loves Chanyeol. Deeply. Irrevocably.

_Oh god._

_What has he done?_

With a sense of frantic unknown to him before, Baekhyun tears paper off the notepad on Kyungsoo’s fridge, uncaring of the pieces that fall to the floor.

He scribbles something he doesn’t quite remember and tears out the door. Sprints down the street, ignoring the pain in his side and ache in his feet and calves. Anything to get home before Chanyeol leaves for work. Baekhyun wants to cry and maybe inspect himself under a fucking microscope because he _doesn’t actually know_ when Chanyeol starts. _How does he not know?_

Heart pounding, Baekhyun retrieves the key from under the welcome mat – so they don’t forget where it is because they’re both idiots – and pushes his way inside. Catches Chanyeol as he walks towards the kitchen. Vulnerable in sweatpants and bare feet.

When Chanyeol sees him, Baekhyun has to look away. Emotion is written so clearly on Chanyeol's face and Baekhyun is afraid to see disappointment there. With a pause so brief it barely spans three blinks, Baekhyun then barrels into Chanyeol with such force he staggers back a few steps.

Baekhyun squeezes his arms tight around Chanyeol's waist. "Imsorryimsorryimsorry. I’m so _sorry_ Chanyeol," he says, before his voice cracks alarmingly and leaves the rest of his unplanned apology to trail into the air.

Chanyeol's doesn’t say anything, hand coming up to soothe a back Baekhyun didn't know was shaking. Baekhyun’s head curves forward to rest against Chanyeol’s chest (his heart) and he squashes his eyes shut in relief.  (And guilt and hope and awe). What did he ever do in life to deserve Chanyeol's unconditional love?

They stay like that for an immeasurable amount of time, bodies intertwined under the kitchen lights, soft shirt pressing against his cheek and a large hand glowing warmth between his shoulder blades. But Baekhyun eventually catches the time on the kitchen clock.

"I have to go," Baekhyun mumbles, regret seeping through into the simple words. "I’ll be late for work."

Chanyeol’s arms unfold around him, and when they detach, Baekhyun doesn’t know what to do. Or say. He can’t bring himself to Chanyeol’s face just yet. _Where does this leave them?_

Chanyeol cradles Baekhyun’s face between gentle piano fingers. Kisses him soft on the forehead, just a sweet soft brush of his lips. The palm that comes up to stroke his cheek is gentle. And so are Chanyeol’s eyes when he finally meets them. The hand contracts briefly, and Chanyeol smiles.

Baekhyun wastes another five minutes with eyes pressed shut to stop tears, before leaving.

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol has been sitting at his desk for god knows how long when a hesitant voice rings out from the doorway.

"How far through are you?"

"Just over half," he replies with a groan, pretending not to hear the piano-press pause in Baekhyun’s question.

“How long have you been there?”

Chanyeol peeks through his hands to look at the clock on his desk and is greeted with seeing the music sheet in front of him again - covered in scribbles and cross-outs because the right lyrics have escaped him all day. “Three hours I think.”

Baekhyun hums, and Chanyeol’s back straightens a fraction when Baekhyun's hands start kneading his shoulders.

"Are you trying to distract me?" Chanyeol asks when he feels lips press feather-light to the side of his neck, but his head tilts to allow further access.

"Well is it working?" His partner replies cheekily against his skin.

The chair creaks when Chanyeol pulls him onto his lap. "I'll let you know." But despite his words and the obvious foray into sex that they suggest, it’s not what Chanyeol’s aiming for. Because they need to talk. He’s never been so frightened as he had been when Baekhyun had walked out. The terror tightening across his chest when he thought he’d just lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

Chanyeol hears the apologies Baekhyun is writing into his skin with his touches and kisses and that’s not what he wants right now. What they need. "Baek you don't have to win me over with sex. I've already forgiven you."

Baekhyun rears back, shock written in his wide eyes and spit-shined mouth. He’s got a good mask, but Chanyeol knows him too well for it to fool him.

“Baek. I love you, so much. And unless I say the exact words ‘I’m leaving you,’ assume I want to be with you forever. Because I do. You’re everything I need.”

“I know. I’m sorry, my insecurities got better of me. I’m a hypocrite and I love you.” Baekhyun replies. Let’s his forehead rest in the cradle of Chanyeol’s cheek.

“It’s okay.”

And it is – the insecurity will never go away but Chanyeol knows Baekhyun will trust him from now on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That said, there will be fights and arguments and moments that they both feel like giving up. It wouldn’t be healthy if they didn’t. But, they love each other and as long as Baekhyun is willing, Chanyeol will try to keep them together until the day he dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised that Chanyeol has come off as the villain yet again. I don't mean it to be this way and in all honesty, for this particular moment, this is more about Baekhyun's insecurity working against him. While his reaction might seem over the top to some of you, insecurity is different for each person and in this fic at least he's very insecure about losing Chanyeol. Sorry for making them so angsty, the last two chapters are much nicer I promise!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE. I HOPE EVERYBODY HAS A GREAT TIME OVER THE HOLIDAYS. SPEND TIME WITH YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
> 
> Also, make sure you take care of yourself. Mental health doesn’t discriminate, as we can see with the recent loss of Jonghyun. Even though heaven gained an angel, we lost a role model, a friend, a brother. Honestly, despite not being as into as SHINee as I should be, his death hit me quite hard, so I can't imagine what Shawols are feeling. Make sure you talk if you feel like you need to. It's not wrong to want help. There are plenty of helplines to call and I am always here if anybody needs.
> 
> Enjoy, and love yourself xo

 

“It’s fucking snowing!” Baekhyun shouts right in Chanyeol’s ear, bouncing on the bed until the duvet is rumpled beneath him.

“Mmprh.” Chanyeol responds eloquently as he tries to bat at Baekhyun’s face.

“Christmasssssss,” Baekhyun trills, dancing out of the way and back in again to blow gently on Chanyeol’s cheek until his boyfriend’s nose scrunches. “Christmas. Christmas Christmas Christmas.”

His boyfriend groans, tugging the covers over his shoulders with enough force to send Baekhyun falling back onto his ass.

Baekhyun huffs. It’s their second Christmas together and he’ll be damned if Chanyeol sleeps it all away. “Park Chanyeol. I swear if you do not get up right now I am sexiling you until January.”

In one sudden movement and a rumble deep in his throat, Chanyeol rolls on top of him, pinning him beneath his sleep-warmed body. (Baekhyun can’t find it in himself to be disappointed in these results).

“You couldn’t let me get an hour more of sleep could you?” Chanyeol grumbles with squinted eyes from sleep and a pained expression. He lets out another groan when he sees the time. “Baekhyun, it’s _six-thirty.”_

“It’s Christmas,” Baekhyun points out. It’s a valid excuse. “And it’s snowing,” he adds when Chanyeol closes his eyes and lets his head fall against Baekhyun’s chest.

“Remind me why I love you again?” Chanyeol asks, and the words would sting if there had been any heat in them, or if Baekhyun hadn’t seen the soft smile he was hiding against his skin.

“Well for a start I’m gorgeous. Good in bed, I have nice hair and hands – oh, did I mention I’m humble?” Baekhyun lists, counting off on the hand that isn’t trapped to Chanyeol’s stomach.

Chanyeol laughs out a “Merry Christmas” and stretches up to kisses Baekhyun gently. “I’ll make breakfast then,” he says, wriggling out of the covers and sliding off the bed. (Baekhyun mourns the loss of all that warmth and gorgeous skin). “You brush your teeth. You’ve got morning breath.”

Baekhyun’s nose scrunches up in offence, mouth dropping open. He throws his pillow at his boyfriend’s back, shouting shrilly after him, “Rude!”

But he heads into the bathroom anyway and with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, opens the window. The swirl of air that blasts in is freezing, bringing in an instant chill and immediately goose-pimpled, Baekhyun rubs at his arms even as he watches in glee. Flurries of snow are still falling gently, not enough to settle but pretty anyway. _It’s Christmas!_ But it’s cold and he can only brush his teeth so long. He spits and rinses, closing the window as he leaves. Trails out wearing Chanyeol’s discarded shirt from last night, four buttons open to his sternum, tiptoeing past a sleeping Mongryong.

Baekhyun is greeted by the usual mix of music and his boyfriend’s voice. Muscles in Chanyeol’s back play as he sways and flips the pancakes at the same time; he hasn’t fixed his hair yet and it’s messy, sticking up in a very gravity-defying way. _Adorable._

Baekhyun plasters himself to Chanyeol’s back and tickles his fingers up his front and side. Flicks at Chanyeol’s nipples distractedly when his eyes go to the punnet of strawberries at his boyfriend’s elbow. Baekhyun is tempted to taste…

Chanyeol wiggles his hips away when Baekhyun dips his fingers under the waistband of hiss sweatpants to get at more skin. Ignores the frustration in Chanyeol’s sigh of _“Baekhyun!”_ and fits his mouth to the golden skin between Chanyeol’s shoulder blades. Focused as he is on leaving a trailing of biting kisses in his name, Baekhyun is taking off-guard when Chanyeol puts the spatula down, spins and picks Baekhyun up, dumping him on the counter in one smooth movement. (He’s certainly gotten better at that since the first time he tried where Baekhyun had slipped and ended up with a bruised ass). Baekhyun slings his legs around Chanyeol’s waist, drawing him in with ankles crossed in the middle of his back.

Chanyeol groans when he looks down and his hands are now gripping Baekhyun’s bare thighs where his shirt has ridden up. “You’re insatiable.”

Baekhyun bites at his shoulder, looking at Chanyeol from under his eyelashes and with a coy little grin.

 _No dice._ Chanyeol taps at his nose. “Stop distracting me Baekhyun. I don’t want to burn the pancakes.”

Baekhyun sulks. Pops a stolen strawberry in his mouth (then two and three and four – all of which he’d been surprised he’d managed to keep a hold on). But does behave himself long enough for Chanyeol to declare them ready and place a plate down beside him.

They eat, the line of Chanyeol’s body pressed warmly against Baekhyun’s leg where he leans against the counter. It’s nice, but Baekhyun’s other leg taps against the drawers. He wants to go outside.

“They weren’t really Christmas-coloured were they?” Baekhyun comments, pushing the leftover maple syrup around with his finger as Chanyeol finishes off his last golden pancake.

Chanyeol shrugs. “I didn’t think cucumber and strawberry pancakes sounded like a good idea but I can do that for you next time if you want.”

Baekhyun flips him off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They do the dishes together and then go to get changed. Chanyeol shoots a longing look at the lounge as they pass but Baekhyun pokes him in the back to keep him moving. Excited, Baekhyun heads outside first, in Chanyeol’s gigantic orange puffer-jacket. (It hangs to his knees but is _so_ warm).

When he crosses the threshold, Baekhyun stands to look for a second. The street is covered in a thick blanket of snow, beautiful and largely untouched. The road, however, is cleared, a dark grey contrast to the white, efforts of some poor soul working Christmas Day. The new snow isn’t enough to settle but spirals down in small flakes.  He waves his fingers at two kids in pjs he can see through the window at a house opposite. _Even the streetlights have little snow caps._

An explosion of wet in the middle of his back breaks him out of his reverie. Without a word or barely a pause, Baekhyun scoops up his own handful and spins to where Chanyeol is. _Was -_ because the ball explodes in a shower of white powder against the door.

Chanyeol’s loud laughter proceeds him though, as does the large divots in the snow from his feet, and Baekhyun’s next throw is a bullseye. Chanyeol’s spluttering as snow slips down his back dissolves into laughter when he pulls Baekhyun’s beanie over his eyes.

Baekhyun grins. “How about a truce before this gets too far, and we can build a snowman instead?”

“Sounds more like something I’d say than you,” Chanyeol says, teasing but nods and stands, wiping the cracked line of ice off his knees.

The next ten minutes are peaceful and quiet, and they end up with a small snowman with black-rock eyes and a black-rock mouth. Being only two-tiers and having most of the snow hidden by a scarf and a beanie, it’s quite short. Baekhyun immediately dubs it Snow-Soo and gets Chanyeol to take a photo.

Now they’ve made their snowman and are standing still, Baekhyun’s body decides to remind him that it’s _freezing._ Fingertips burn cold where ice has soaked through his gloves and his nose feels like it’s going to fall off. Water puddles into his socks where snow flowed over the tops of his boots. His toes are numb.

Chanyeol’s cheeks are pink and instead of looking artsy and picturesque, the snow in his hair just looks like really bad dandruff.

His laugh makes Chanyeol look over; his shivers make Chanyeol abandon his new sculpture. “Present time I guess then?”

“Shower first, I’m fucking freezing.”

“No point trying to have one on my own is there?” Chanyeol asks, squinting his eyes at Baekhyun. But the way he links their hands together suggests he doesn’t mind.

“Nope.

To his frozen skin, the water is almost too hot at first. Baekhyun yelps when he hops in straight under the spray and it feels like he’s being cooked. His feet feel like clunky blocks of ice and he almost slips. He warms up quickly enough - especially when Yeol drops to his knees.

Unhurried, the water and the pleasure washes over him. “Merry Christmas to me,” He says cheekily when Chanyeol stands back up, which earns him a laugh.

Baekhyun leaves his boyfriend with a few moments of peace and a kiss, dressing quickly in black jeans and Chanyeol’s burgundy knitted sweater. Heads out into the kitchen, flicks the jug on. Fills two mugs with hot chocolate powder – adds coffee to his and sugar to Chanyeol’s – waits till he fills them up with water and carries them to the lounge to set them on the table.

"Oh, there you are pup," Baekhyun says when he hears Mongryong's nails click against the linoleum. He’d seen the empty pet bed when he’d come back in, but no pet.

He scoops the corgi up into his arms and receives a sloppy kiss to the cheek. Baekhyun gently strokes the corgi's ear back and forth in return and locates the bag of treats in the pantry and gives him one (three). _It’s Christmas okay._ Heads back into the lounge and sets Mongryong down again. The corgi immediately starts toying with the stuffed panda that was one of his gifts. (The other being a little winter coat).

Baekhyun himself settles into the couch, pulling the white throw blanket off where it's folded over the arm and spreads it over his lap. Curls his socked feet under him, and his hands around his mug when he takes a sip. Warmth spreads through him and he wiggles his toes. His phone’s notifications are chocked with Merry Christmas messages. He spends the next few minutes replying to them all, and trying to think of a good comeback to Jongdae’s Snapchat – telling him that his and Yeol’s Christmas card was “the fucking ugliest thing I have ever seen.” Baekhyun eventually settles for a selfie while he's pulling the finger. Jongdae’s not wrong, but as the boyfriend, he’s got to defend Chanyeol’s idea.

Not everyone replies straight away - most have plans, but Soo's reply makes Baekhyun laugh.

 

_Sooshi | 8:03_

_ugh_

 

Even though they were having Christmas dinner with Soo tonight, his friend had never hidden how much he couldn’t be bothered with the holiday.

Tomorrow they were going to go see Chanyeol’s family which Baekhyun was quite excited about – having met them before, he absolutely adored Chanyeol’s mother and sister. They were just like Chanyeol; sweet and caring and accepting. They had visited Baekhyun’s own family yesterday. It was okay, but he hadn’t really seen his family in a while and his brother was seven years older than him; meaning they’d never been very close and his family, whilst fairly accepting and accommodating, had been a bit distant since he came out to them in the last year of high school.

"Okay, I'm here now." Chanyeol says, bursting into the room with his usual enthusiasm, hair drying curly. His cheeks are flushed - probably from the heat of the shower and the grey turtleneck he’s now sporting.

Baekhyun smiles at him, tucking a strand of hair back. "Yours are the ones in green paper, mine are in red."

Chanyeol, like a very cute Santa, deposits all the gifts onto his lap with a kiss but takes his own seat on the floor. "Let's open everybody else's first, then we'll do each other's."

Baekhyun nods. The next few minutes are spent opening presents carefully (both of them), folding the leftover paper with careful hands (Baekhyun) or letting it float down in a messy cloud around them (Chanyeol).

Some of Baekhyun's presents are really good – Kyungsoo gave him a phone case and a mousepad with a wrist cushion. Some aren't – the sweater from his parents is itchy and so far from his style it’s not funny, and some are gag gifts - he doesn't even want to know where Jongdae got the gigantic bottle of strawberry-flavoured lube and the pearly stockings rimmed in lace _._ (Jokes on him though because Baekhyun is actually going to use them).

Chanyeol's holding his opened presents in his hands - the ones he can fit anyway, Kyungsoo's gift to him was a rice cooker - and smiling up at him. Baekhyun loves that face, loves this man; with his big sticky-out ears and endless joy. “You ready?”

Baekhyun watches Chanyeol open his present first with excitement. He got Chanyeol that recording piece of equipment he'd wanted for ages but couldn't get while they were still trying to pay off things around their house. He doesn't quite know what it is or does - but Chanyeol had mentioned it once with such want in his voice that Baekhyun had been squirrelling away any spare change he had for months.

Chanyeol falls back on his heels with awe on his face, hands falling to beside where he opened the wrapping. " _Baekhyun_."

Baekhyun smiles at him softly. The expression on Chanyeol's face right now is worth every cent.

When his hands go to his own presents, he feels Chanyeol's eyes on him, gentle but inquisitive. Baekhyun gets a little bit nervous when eyes are on him, when people pour their hearts out into the gifts they give. And Chanyeol is an open book.

There are two parcels: a medium and a small. Baekhyun goes for the smallest one first. A shaky hand flutters to his mouth when he opens it, revealing a bottle of foundation, a brush and an eyeliner pen. Eyeshadow.

"I didn't want to presume or push you into anything. I just wanted to let you know that it is okay if you want to experiment." Chanyeol says with a shrug as if what he said wasn't utterly ground-breaking.

And Baekhyun didn't realise, he didn't know that Chanyeol had seen, had noticed the way he lingered at the stores when they went. Baekhyun's voice is a little shaky when he says, "thank you Chanyeol. So much." Because despite what he comes across as Baekhyun is far more self-conscious than people think. And buying makeup falls too far into the category of "not-common enough" and "likely to get him judged" for him to be comfortable enough to buy it himself.

Chanyeol smiles. "There's still more."

The second is a box filled with bits and pieces: a belt, some jeans. Baekhyun rifles through it all and puts it back carefully. Beckons Chanyeol closer with a finger and a somewhat shaky, “come here.”

Chanyeol comes up onto his knees and leans over to kiss Baekhyun, lacing their fingers together, while the others go to cradles his face. Chanyeol smiles against his lips, pulling back slightly so they're only just brushing. "I have one more for you."

Baekhyun waits, curls his toes further into the couch.

Their Christmas tree was tall, real pine, done in perfect even layers of red white and gold. (Despite what Kyungsoo had said, Baekhyun had _not_ gone overboard with the tinsel). The star was a little haphazard - but after Chanyeol almost knocked over the tree putting it on, Baekhyun wasn't going to risk letting him try and straighten it. Chanyeol sticks his arm far under it, wiggling forward until his shoulder and neck are hidden.

Baekhyun nods to himself, no wonder he couldn't find the presents because if Chanyeol's gigantic arm barely reaches it there was no chance in hell he could of.

Chanyeol must find what he’s looking for because he pulls back. His sweater drags along one of the branches and almost carries one the translucent gold baubles off with it, and Baekhyun holds his breath. Thank God, his boyfriend sees it and rights it as best he can with one hand. They’re Baekhyun’s favourite, the delicate round baubles with silver snowflakes crafted around the middle.

Chanyeol turns on one knee. He's holding a box.

_Oh my god._

"Byun Baekhyun will-"

"Yes," he blurts, interrupting, babbling "yes. _Yes._ Yes, of course I'll marry you."

Baekhyun barely waits for Chanyeol to slide the ring on his finger before he’s grabbing his face to kiss him.

When they pull back their faces are both flushed. Chanyeol's smile has never been so wide and he’s never looked so gorgeous; with mussed hair, sparkling eyes and the pine needles littered all over his shirt. Pressed into Chanyeol’s chest, Baekhyun lifts his hand, the band glittering in the light. He loves it.

Chanyeol’s rare-to-show dimple pops out. "We don't have to get married straight away but I just thought -"

With another well of giddiness, Baekhyun shows his appreciation by kissing Chanyeol fiercely until they end up pressed into the couch. Suddenly the winter air is warm. Heady. Like drowning in syrup.

Just as it's getting exciting, Mongryong starts barking like crazy and Chanyeol pulls back with an obscene noise. Lazily opens one eye and with his head tilted back against the couch he says simply, "he's your dog,” and releases the delicious grip he has on Baekhyun's waist.

Pouting, Baekhyun clambers off his fiancé's (fiancé!!) waist, but not before sucking a bruise into the exposed column of Chanyeol’s throat just to hear the low appreciative moan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh my god.

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo is going to _freak._

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stg i didn't plan to include this much smut...
> 
> ANYWAY, HAPPY NEW YEAR AND ALL THAT JAZZ. Here's to hoping that 2018 is a much better year!
> 
> A few notes before we get started:
> 
> 1\. In this verse, Chanyeol's tattoos from [Love Me Right era](https://1.soompi.io/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/exo-chanyeol.jpg) are real, as are his current ones (exception of his newest one)  
> 2\. I know the tattoos realistically would've taken longer, or required consultations but I took liberties  
> 3\. Chanyeol calling his baby baek 'sweetheart' is my new aesthetic  
> 4\. This is the second to last chapter in Snapshots.  
> 5\. I am going away on the third of January and won't be back until the twelfth so the last chapter will, unfortunately, be delayed (though hopefully, I'll have some new content to post after, fingers crossed)
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy :3

 

Due to circumstances he can’t quite remember, Chanyeol finds himself outside the tattoo parlour at dark.

His keys are in his hands and his feet are sore. The streetlights bend and wriggle. He must’ve walked here. ( _Hopefully_ he walked here). There are two figures standing outside the tattoo parlour – one standing still and one wandering slightly.

Chanyeol waves wildly when he recognises them to be Minseok and Yixing. “Hey! What are the odds that you guys are here too?”

Minseok raises an eyebrow that’s as sharp as a bird’s wing, but it’s Yixing that answers; “Chanyeol I literally texted you to come.”

Chanyeol checks his phone through blurry eyes and indeed sees the text, and his own misspelt reply.  “Oh yeah! That makes sense. Wait, but _why_ are we here?” Chanyeol asks, drawing out all the wrong words in the sentence.  At least his voice is clear – he vaguely remembers having to down two shots of tequila before he left.

“Minseok lost a bet,” Yixing says, simply, but even in this state, Chanyeol can tell there’s more to the story with the way Minseok’s eyes haven’t left the storefront since he got there and the constant overturning of paper in his hands. And Chanyeol knows it’s not because the store name ‘Variety’ is printed out in a cool font. (But then again, Minseok hasn’t been the same since Luhan left).

“Well let’s not wait outside all night, shall we?” Yixing says when no one says anything, shivering, while Minseok simply looks on with his hands at his sides. And with a nod, he makes for the door and holds it open for Chanyeol to enter first.

As Chanyeol stumbles through, he realises belatedly that he’s probably too drunk for this to be anything but a bad idea. But then the tattoo artist looks up, greeting him with a smile and any alarm bells fly out of his head.

“How have you been Chanyeol?” Yoo Jae Suk asks with a bow. The man is in his forties, with a face starting to show his age and a body that doesn’t contain a single tattoo. But, he is a damn good artist and a very easy man to get along with, having done all three – _four_ – of Chanyeol’s tattoos so far.

“Good good,” Chanyeol replies and rubs his hand over his newest addition – the guitar composed of two moons running along his forearm. “And this has healed well.”

The tattoo artists’ glasses gleam as the light catches them. “No fading?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s good.” Yoo Jae Suk leans forward then. “Now, what can I do for you three tonight?”

“Tattoos,” Chanyeol says stupidly. And then winces, as an incredulous look and one set of eyebrows shooting over a set of glasses turn towards him. _Nice going Chanyeol_. Who woulda thunk you’d ever come to a tattoo parlour for a tattoo.

“Tattoo, singular. For Minseok,” Yixing cuts in smoothly, pointing to the last member of their group.

Chanyeol gapes. Most of it is the alcohol singing around his bloodstream yes but this fluid, confident Yixing is one he is still getting used to. Then his mind decides to rewind what he has just said and Chanyeol tacks “and me too I think,” onto the end.

“You weren’t part of the bet,” Minseok says, the first words he’s spoken since Yeol had arrived. They’re not spoken unkindly but with a sense of concern, like Chanyeol’s drunkenness is impeding his thought process.

It’s not. _Honestly_. “I know,” Chanyeol replies, but his eyes have already fallen upon one of the tattoos under the glass case. On the one he saw last time that reminded him of Baekhyun, and that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head since.

“You sure Chanyeol?” Jae Suk’s eyes are piercing over his glasses.

“Yes. The one I picked out last time please. On my right ankle.”

Whatever shows on Chanyeol’s face must pass a test because the artist says, “Alright follow me.”

Chanyeol, who has several tattoos now and a good idea of the processes, sits in the chair when they get into the back room. Signs the papers before being prompted and rests his head against the rest after removing his shoe and rolling up his jeans. Thank god the area he wants done is hairless – he doesn’t fancy being shaved, he tried it once as a teenager and swore _never again._

The others – tattoo-free – watch in intrigue and apprehension as Jae Suk gets set-up.

In the few minutes it takes, Chanyeol slips away in comfortable relaxation. He feels at an equilibrium, the peaceful stage where he feels like he is floating, but is still firmly – well, _mainly_ – in control.

“How’s that Chanyeol?” Jae Suk asks, and Chanyeol opens his eyes to the transfer paper the artist is holding up.

Chanyeol nods and Jae Suk rearranges his leg and foot to his desire. Transfers the yellow flower design onto the outside of his right ankle, in the hollow underneath the bone. It’s only a simple design – two-dimensional, the size of a 500 won coin and only containing the petals – that doesn't sit quite right with the bold lines of the writing on his forearm but when Chanyeol saw it, he _knew_ he had to have it.

And yeah, Chanyeol may not be new to getting tattoos but he still can’t help the flinch of pain at the first touch of needle to his skin. Can’t quite stop the prick of tears as it burns deep under his skin. He knows he’s got a low pain tolerance. Actually, he usually even has someone to hold his hand (Baekhyun for the first two and Jongin for the most recent one. Jongin turned out to be a horrible choice when he nearly fainted at the sight of needle touching skin).

But it turns out he doesn’t need to worry. It does hurt but the alcohol is numbing a lot of it. And if he pretends he’s watching interestingly from the sidelines instead of it being his own skin – to be fair all of his other tattoos are in black – and pretends the buzzing is background noise, it isn’t so bad.

Once it’s over Chanyeol hands over a wad of cash that he pulls from his sock. Yoo Jae Suk looks like he’s biting back both a laugh and a grimace, but takes it and exchanges it for some coins. (They’re a bit more annoying to put in his sock).

After Jae Suk puts the saran wrap over the area, Chanyeol hops off the chair. Wobbles at the difference missing one shoe but manages to pull it off like he just slipped.

 _Yixing_ takes his place on the chair.

“Um,” Chanyeol says dumbly because _Minseok_ lost the bet. Surely, he isn’t drunk enough to have gotten that confused.

But Yixing is deep in conversation with Jae Suk, unaware of the stares. It isn’t until the buzz of the gun starts and Yixing is lifting up his shirt with his pants pulled down slightly - Baekhyun would be having an aneurysm – that he finally looks at them with sharp eyes.

Minseok even is a little struck-dumb but speaks quietly and carefully. "You won the bet."

Yixing shrugs. Grins his little grin that he does that absolutely no one else can follow (but think is adorable anyway). "I’ve wanted one for ages, so why not?”

Chanyeol’s mind decides that makes enough sense and he tunes back out, rolling something over and over in his hands. That something turns out to be his shoe when he looks close enough. He leaves it off, though does put his sock on.

The buzzing of the gun is rather soothing – as is the rain that has started outside. Chanyeol frowns. That’ll be a pain to walk home in.

“What’s that look for?” Yixing asks through gritted teeth, hand clenching white around Minseok’s as the needle presses ink into his skin.

Chanyeol watches the flex of Yixing’s muscles until he realises he was asked a question. “Don’t want to get puddles in my socks.”

Minseok snorts. A hesitant little thing. “I’m not overly fond of that either.”

Yixing cranes his head to look out the nearest window, where the rain can be seen against the black – only due to the streetlight. “Chanyeol, we will drive you home.”

Chanyeol giggles, eyes shutting again. “Oh, that’s a relief.” 

Minseok’s voice is soft. Quiet, and not directed to him but Chanyeol hears it anyway. “I’m surprised you agreed to tattoo him.”

“As a tattoo artist we don’t tend to be so mindful – it’s not exactly our business in what people want tattooed. If we ask and they still say yes, there isn’t much we can do about it. It’s not up to us to change a customer’s mind. Chanyeol has previously talked about his interest in this particular tattoo before.” Yoo Jae Suk’s voice is traced slightly with age and wise with the knowledge of the many different people who have come through these doors.

Next thing Chanyeol knows is Yixing is saying “thank you,” and is sliding off the table.

"What does it mean?" Chanyeol whispers in a shout, spotting the two Chinese characters inked above his left hip in a thin simple font. He has no idea how much time has passed.

Yixing inspects his new ink through the covering. "Virtue."

“Ahhh.” Chanyeol thumps his head back against the headrest of his chair. Which proves to not be a very good idea. The alcohol is slowly wearing off, his stomach and head reminding him just how long he’s been awake.

Jae Suk reappears with a bottle of water which he hands to Chanyeol, who grabs it with no fuss and chugs it half-down. “I’m adding that to your next consult by the way,” he says, but there’s a twinkle in his age-old eyes. “Now, Minseok, what can I do for you?”

Minseok hands the paper in his hands over without Chanyeol seeing what it is. Even stretching up on the seat doesn’t let him see through or over it.

“And where is this going?”

Minseok runs his hand down his side, from the top of his rubs downwards. “Here.”

“Okay. Shirt off and lay on your side. Fair warning this will hurt, ribs are one of the most sensitive parts of the body to be tattooed. Now, with that knowledge, does that make you change your mind?” Jae Suk explains, moving his chair closer to the side.

“No,” Minseok says when his head pops free of his shirt (Chanyeol may be very happily engaged to Baekhyun but damn, does Minseok have a surprisingly nice set of abs) but there is obvious hesitance, when he sits in the chair.

Yixing breaks his silence then, turning to Minseok with sharp eyes. “You don’t have to go through with this.”

“I think you know I do.” Minseok replies and Chanyeol must’ve missed a giant step in their conversation because he somehow feels this doesn’t have anything to do with a drunken bet. For one, Minseok doesn’t actually even look drunk.

“But is doing out of spite a good reason to get a tattoo?”

Minseok sighs, rubbing his hand across his face and Chanyeol decides he misses the Minseok that smiled all the time and not like it hurt him. “It isn’t just that. Partly yes but I like to think that this is also relevant to a lot of moments in my life.”

Jae Suk. “This is a permanent thing. You need to be sure.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol is dozing by the time Minseok’s tattoo is completed. Groggily, he lifts his head from the chair where he’d retired to an hour ago when he’d almost broke something. His jaw cracks open in a yawn. His phone when he pulls it out reads 1:30 to blurry eyes.

“How does it feel?” Jae Suk asks, cleaning and packing away his gear.

“A bit sore,” Minseok admits, but his voice is steady. In the three hours it took, Chanyeol didn’t once recall hearing Minseok uttering any sign of pain or discomfit.

His eyes focus to briefly see simple black lines of a tribal-style phoenix under the saran wrap before Minseok shrugs his shirt back over his head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol slides into bed at something ridiculous like two in the morning, somehow without tripping over his feet or running into something. Sobered by the prick of the needle, the water and the long wait, Chanyeol can feel the tenderness of his ankle and a vengeful headache looming. His stomach lurches a little. But under the covers is warm, and so is the body he creeps up next to.

"’N-yeol?" Baekhyun mumbles sleepily.

"Yes sweetheart," he replies softly, seeing – barely, in the dark - his fiancé turn over towards him.

A sleeve-covered hand rubs weakly at drooping eyes. “I waitd but fll alsp.”

There’s not quite a question there – Baekhyun’s not awake enough - but Chanyeol remembers Minseok’s stern warning that no one was to know. “I was just at work drinks, then saw Yixing and Minseok briefly.”

Chanyeol bites his lip to stop his smile when Baekhyun hums, _“mmkay,”_ and shuffles forward to cuddle into him. Sleepy Baek really is the sweetest - lacking any of the bite he does when awake.

He kisses the soft curve of Baekhyun’s closed eyelid. “Go back to sleep.”

Baekhyun’s head dips in what could be interpreted as a nod and it doesn’t take long for Chanyeol to fall asleep with Baekhyun’s head tucked underneath his chin and their feet tangled together; his newly-tattooed ankle angled slightly outwards.

 

* * *

 

 Several days pass after the night Chanyeol came home at two in the morning – for whatever reason – and Baekhyun is waiting patiently for his fiancé to come home. (Patiently is a term to be used loosely, he feels like he’s been waiting forever and has taken to pacing the floor of their bedroom).

To be fair, since Chanyeol’s promotion to manager of Exo Planet, their hours don’t line up much anymore and Baekhyun just _misses_ him.

The front door opens and shuts. “ _Baekhyun?”_

Baekhyun bites his lip to stop himself from answering Chanyeol’s call and hides behind the door. Jumps at his fiancé when he walks into their bedroom - barely getting caught as Chanyeol has to drop all his things - and dives straight into a filthy kiss that makes Chanyeol’s hands tighten on his thighs.

“You’re insatiable,” Chanyeol huffs the well-worn line when Baekhyun starts nipping purpling bites down his neck. But if Chanyeol’s words were part of a script, his move to gently place Baekhyun on the bed would be the next stage direction.

Massive hands slide up his legs and Chanyeol _groans_ into Baekhyun’s mouth when his shirt pulls up to show that he isn’t wearing anything underneath. But Baekhyun has decided that today is not about him, so when Chanyeol swoops down for another kiss, wearing noticeably fewer clothes, Baekhyun rolls them over.

And that’s where they are now, Chanyeol panting beneath him as he slides in and out.

"I love your fucking legs," Baekhyun admits on the tail-end of a moan, using his grip on Chanyeol's thighs to pull them around his waist. They're crooked and skinny and long and stretch way past his hips even as he thrusts. (It’s no secret that Baekhyun loves their size difference. Loves that when they're stretched out together, Baekhyun's toes don't even reach Chanyeol's shins).

If Baekhyun loves Chanyeol’s height, then Chanyeol loves his hands. So when Baekhyun moves his hand down to stroke Chanyeol, it’s barely a minute later that he comes.

Baekhyun moves back towards the edge of the bed to get something to clean them off with, running his hand down Chanyeol’s right leg as he goes, feeling the familiar muscles and tendons. His fingers pause at their brush along Chanyeol’s ankle. Because that doesn’t feel normal. It feels different like the skin is raised.

Hurriedly, he turns Chanyeol’s ankle towards him.

And Baekhyun falls back onto the bed, unable to hold back the laugh that bubbles up in his throat even as Chanyeol watches him. "YEOL,” He shouts, half-wheezing, “THAT'S GAYER THAN ME."

“It reminded me of you,” Chanyeol says, patiently waiting until Baekhyun has calmed down.

Baekhyun looks again, closer at the little yellow daisy petals and affronted, tilts his nose up. “Daisies are _weeds_.”

“Yeah. Your point?”

Baekhyun shoves him off the bed but undermines his actions by following Chanyeol down and kissing him furiously _._ Because a surge of love and admiration has curled low into his stomach and making his eyes shine. _“You got,”_ kiss, _“a tattoo,”_ kiss, _“for me?”_ kiss.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol breathes when Baekhyun gives him the chance. “Gerbera daisies mean cheerfulness.”

Chanyeol’s back must ache from the fall but he doesn’t seem to care, content to let Baekhyun cradle his face, legs either side of his chest. Chanyeol wriggles beneath him so Baekhyun goes to move, but he just frees a hand to press his palm to Baekhyun’s cheek.

Baekhyun nuzzles into it, feeling the engagement ring against the skin of his cheek like a kiss. “I love you Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol smiles. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minseok winces as his shirt rubs against his ribs. Exordium shirts aren’t the worst, but Junmyeon does expect professionalism and the starch material seems to only brush against the sensitive skin in the worst way. He sneaks a glance around and presses his palm to where the bandage sits, fighting the urge to itch.
> 
> "Okay you either had some hardcore bdsm last night or you got a tattoo, so which is it," comes a dry voice.
> 
> Shocked, Minseok spins around.
> 
> "So," Kyungsoo says slowly, eyebrows raised. "Which one is it?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, and welcome to not only the last chapter of Snapshots but also the final instalment of Seasons! Phew! 
> 
> I have to say it's been a long (and at times frustrating) ride but I am a little sad it's over. This has been in progress since June last year and has been the first multi-chapter series I have written, not to mention the longest.
> 
> Don't worry though, I do have at three more fics on the way!
> 
> So please, read and enjoy :3
> 
> (p.s this is set an undetermined time after the last chapter because I'm far too lazy to work it out, but it's at least a few years).

   
As soon as Baekhyun gets home, he is ambushed. Large palms cover his eyes and pull his body backwards, two weights attaching themselves around his shins. There are several high-pitched giggles. Small hands tug at his white coat. A dog barks.

Baekhyun smiles into the darkness, cradling his satchel to his chest in pretend fear.

“Uncy Hyun! Uncy Hyun! You’re here!”

_Silence._

“Great Yunnie, you ruined the surprise,” comes a grumpy little voice.

“Soo-Jin, that’s no way to speak to your sister,” Chanyeol chides, the warm weight of his hands unwinding from Baekhyun’s eyes.

Chastised, the older girl detaches herself from Baekhyun to at pat her sister’s arm, “Sorry.”

Baekhyun can practically feel Chanyeol’s smile against his neck as he ruffles his niece’s hair. “No harm done.”

He kisses Baekhyun’s cheek as he moves past, Soo-Jin and Toben following him into the kitchen. Baekhyun smiles down at Soo-Yun, still attached to his leg. She looks up from her hard stare into the distance to give him a rosy-cheeked smile back, showcasing her gummy smile.

“To the lounge we go!” Baekhyun mock-bellows, striding his way forward.

It’s harder than he makes it seem: Yunnie is heavier than she used to be, Mongryong is tangling around his legs, toys are spread all over the floor, and the way Soo-Yun is bouncing excitedly isn’t helping. (In the chaos someone even licks his ankle and he doesn’t know which one of them did it).  He offloads her easily enough next to her sister and joins Chanyeol behind the counter. She doesn’t notice Baekhyun is even gone, already chattering to her sister. Mongryong stays between the girls as their small hands pat his fur.  _Traitor._

Chanyeol and Baekhyun watch the two girls in silence for a minute, a loud game with their dolls that Baekhyun takes to be a high-risk version of playing shop. They certainly have more energy than he does in this late afternoon.

“I’ll be back in ten,” Baekhyun sighs and brushes his hand across Chanyeol’s shoulder.

Twelve minutes later, after putting his stuff away and showering, he returns to Chanyeol’s side, black hair drying messily against his forehead and his gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Leans his hip against the counter to watch him cook.

“How was work?” Chanyeol asks as he stirs the noodles.

“Good. It was a pretty slow day but it usually is on Saturdays.” It was true, the pharmacy he worked at was quiet, slow in the weekends considering how busy the after-hours were. He supposed being an independent chemist had its advantages. “How was your day?”

“Great. Jongin had them this morning so I picked them up when I finished at twelve,” Chanyeol says as the girls settle into the first few minutes of quiet since Baekhyun got there, watching cartoons. “You missed the first two hours, they were hyped up on candy – and well, you know what Jongin’s like. He can’t say no to them.”

Baekhyun hums.

A few minutes of silence pass.

Chanyeol drains the noodles. “He’s been looking at the rings you know.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sehun and I went with him.”

“Let me guess, Sehun bitched and moaned the whole time but –“

“- It was all show and he was actually helpful? Because that’s exactly what happened,” Chanyeol finishes, starting to plate up. “Though that might’ve had something to do with the caramel macchiato I bought him.”

Baekhyun laughs. “Typical.”

“Pot, kettle.”

Baekhyun pulls a face at him but helps ladle the food into bowls and set them on the dining table they’d got as an anniversary present from their friends (despite still not actually being married. It’s become a source of amusement for them both; the whines and the rolled eyes and the exasperated, “it’s been six years!”). “Girls! Dinner!”

With renewed energy, the girls clamber up from their spots on the couch. Baekhyun helps Soo-Yun, the youngest at three, up into her chair. Mongryong follows and curls up at Chanyeol’s feet. Toben was asleep in their bedroom last Baekhyun saw.

“What did you get up to today Yunnie?” Baekhyun asks as he helps her cut her food into manageable pieces.

“We saw and played with Uncy Jong and he gave us yummy candy and then Uncy Chan got us and we played hide and seek at the park and then you got home.”

Baekhyun would be forever amazed at how eloquent she was for her age (with a mouthful of food no less). But to be fair, she was Minseok and Jongdae’s daughter.

(Both nobody and everybody had been surprised when they found out Minseok and Jongdae had started dating – their lives were so intertwined, but Baekhyun was the only one with any true knowledge of romantic feelings. Outwardly, nothing had changed in their relationship, but at the next work get-together after Jongdae’s debut, Jongdae had _shone_  in a way he hadn’t – not really – for a long time. Subsequently, no one was surprised when they got married two years later. It had been a small simple thing, with less than fifty people. A year after that they adopted Soo-Jin and Soo-Yun).

Aside from the clinking of the Soo-Yun’s fork and the click of the other’s chopsticks, for the most part, it’s a fairly quiet meal. Then Soo-Yun spills her milk.

Baekhyun doesn’t even think anything of it, hopping up to get a cloth, but then he sees Soo-Yun’s trembling bottom lip, the tears threatening to fall and the way she curls in on herself and he has to hold his breath. She keeps repeating the word “sorry,” in a small, meek voice.

The tension is diffused by her older sister, who slips out of her own chair to cuddle her.

Chanyeol offers a smile when Yunnie looks up and Baekhyun wipes up the mess with no fuss when she resumes eating. Holds a hand to the thigh that Chanyeol is jiggling under the table, in what Baekhyun knows is repressed anger. They’re not privy to the full details of the adoption – only Minseok and Jongdae are – but what they’ve heard from the girl’s previous homes, well. Let’s just say it’s enough to make  _Chanyeol_ angry).

Baekhyun has just finished his food when Soo-Yun tugs on his shirt and says in a very solemn stage-whisper, “Uncy Hyun I need to pee.”

_Charming._

Baekhyun takes her hand after lifting her from her high-chair. Follows her waddle to the bathroom, subtly pulling the finger at a chuckling Chanyeol as he passes. Stands outside the toilet door as instructed. There is a muted rustling and a “sing please.”

So Baekhyun does. (Awkwardly). He loves the girls, he really does - and seeing Chanyeol with children makes his heart clench - but he’s not ready to be a parent himself just yet. (He still feels like a teenager sometimes, even though he’s now pushing thirty). It’s still a marvel to him that Jongdae – who is  _younger_ – took to parenthood like a duck to water. But then, Jongdae always was oddly mature.

“All good?” He calls through the door when there has been a few minutes of silence.

The toilet flushes. “Yup!” She toddles out, thankfully having already pulled her leggings up. “Appa’s voice is better though,” she adds.

Baekhyun huffs, picking her up and carrying her into the bathroom. “You little rascal!”

She giggles. Keeps giggling as he props her between the counter and his hip to help her to wash her hands – and her face for good measure. He smiles over the top of her head and lets her down. She grabs his hand and Baekhyun is helpless to resist.

The lounge, when Baekhyun and Soo-Yun return, is quiet. The table has been cleared. The plates put away.

Baekhyun smiles, knowing what is coming.

“RARR!” Chanyeol yells, bursting out from behind the couch.

Soo-Yun squeals high and loud, letting go of Baekhyun’s hand. Oddly enough, instead of running away, she leaps at Chanyeol. Baekhyun throws his head back and laughs as Soo-Yun grabs a handful of Chanyeol’s hair.

The laugh turns into a wince and a groan when a sudden weight cannonballs into his ankles and sends him falling to the ground.

“Hah!” Soo-Jin crows, showing her missing two front teeth. “Got you!”

Baekhyun rolls over, hugging his God Daughter to his chest, ignoring the aching pain running up the shoulder that hit the ground. Her smile is big and her eyes curved, her weight warm.

He returns her smile with his own, “Yes, you did.”

_(Later, Jongdae will message him saying “don’t you dare corrupt my kids,” and Baekhyun will smile and reply, “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”)_

 

* * *

 

 

“Don’t put that pillow there,” Baekhyun comments distractedly, not looking up from his laptop. He huffs out a laugh from the safety of the dining table when the fort collapses for the second time. He doesn’t get up to help quite yet. He’s got a lot of work to do.

(Chanyeol, on the other hand, had thrown himself into the fort-making like he did everything else; with big-hearted enthusiasm.  _Was he good at it? No)._

Baekhyun sighs, and shifts the pile of papers next to him, pausing when he notices a postcard sticking out. “Hey Yeol, I forgot to tell you that Yixing sent another postcard.”

“Did he?” Chanyeol asks rhetorically, as a side-note, still looking as Soo-Jin attempts to rebuild the fort and shifts Soo-Yun further onto his hip. “Read it to me?”

“Well it’s got a sheep on the front,” he starts, flipping it around to show his fiancé. “It says, ‘Hi Chanyeol-ah and Baekhyun-ah! I am in New Zealand and there are many sheep like this one on the card I sent! My English isn’t very good yet but Rosé is helping me – she is Korean like you guys! This place is very pretty. I hope you are both doing well and I should be home by Christmas. Love Yixing xo.’”

“I’m glad he’s doing well.”

“Me too,” Baekhyun replies and with a laugh, easily abandons his emails when the fort collapses again.

(With his help, the fort is completed in minutes).

 

* * *

 

 

Later, when the girls are asleep, Chanyeol sighs. “What time did Minseok say he was picking them up?”

“Seven I think,” Baekhyun replies.

Minseok was an architect and worked long hours Monday-Friday. Jongdae was touring at the moment – not idol-famous but famous enough to have some number one releases - and although he was slowing down to retire, he was still away a lot. To help them out, they all looked after the girls when they could.

Chanyeol rolls over to lie on his side, hand pillowing under his head. Even between the couches and giant blanket, the fort is a tight fit for all four of them. “Did you hear that Luhan showed up the other day?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Kyungsoo told me. He went to see Minseok.”

“Does Jongdae know?” Baekhyun asks, because at the moment Jongdae is still in China, and it would kill him to know that Minseok might be hurt in any way. It had been  _years,_  but none of them would forget what Luhan had done to Minseok’s confidence.

“Yeah. I don’t know what went down but I don’t think Luhan will be staying for long.”

Baekhyun breathes out a sigh of relief.

“What’s Sehun up to nowadays? Any interest in any girls yet?”

“Nope,” Baekhyun replies, popping the ‘p,’ stroking a hand across Soo-Yun’s hair where her head rests on his stomach. “Or boys. Or dating, for that matter.”

“And Suho?”

“Still dating Irene. Still running the stores. We haven’t seen him for a while, we should go do that.”

“Noted,” Chanyeol says, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

Baekhyun closes his eyes too. He’s tired, work was long and the girls have  _so much_  energy.

It’s nice being able to talk to his  ~~fiancé~~  husband like this. Teenage Baekhyun would never have thought he’d enjoy domesticity but he does. Loves never running out of stuff to talk about, loves that they still surprise each other with gifts. Loves being able to collapse into a hug if he’s had a bad day, or laugh together over dinner. Loves their stupid arguments over doing the dishes. Loves seeing the slow thinning of Chanyeol’s hair and wrinkles appearing around his eyes and mouth, because he knows it means they’re growing old together.

“I love you Chanyeol.” It falls out of his mouth as easily as breathing, the words dripping contentment and comfort.

Chanyeol, careful not to disturb Soo-Jin lying between them, reaches over to run his hand gently across Baekhyun’s cheek. “I love you too Baekhyun.”

 

                                                                                                                                                          

 

 

 

                                                                                                          Fin

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Later – when Minseok opens the door to the oddly-quiet house, the first words out of his mouth is a broken-off, “what the-”
> 
> It looks like a small cyclone has torn through the room. Pillows lie everywhere, mixing with small piles of rubbish and toys. The tv is still on, blaring a muted cartoon. And there, in the corner, curled up under the pillow fort are his two girls, lying on and between Chanyeol and Baekhyun. 
> 
> Minseok smiles softly when he sneaks over and Soo-Jin sleepily blinks her eyes up at him, “Abeoji’s here.”


End file.
